All The Things I Always Meant To Say
by smc-27
Summary: She's his one that got away. She hasn't gone anywhere. It's all a little tragic and stupid, but they never could get it together. All either of them know is that it never feels like it's over. LP 3 parter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This'll be a three or four parter. Pretty much AU. Backgrounds of all the characters are the same though.

**----**

The minute she steps into the 'computer basics/intro to business' class, she thinks it's going to be a huge waste of time. The only reason she's taking it is because it counts as a tech credit, and it's better than taking auto shop or woodworking. Really? No. Just...no. She's got a dad who can change her oil and she has no desire to spin a bowl on a wood lathe. That's all those classes ever teach you anyway.

The computer lab is the hottest room in the school, and she pulls off her sweater - leaving her in just a tank top and her jeans - before she even chooses a seat.

Well, choosing isn't really an option. There's only one spot available, and it's next to a blonde guy. She calls him 'a blonde guy', because she doesn't want to admit that she knows exactly who he is. He's Lucas Scott. She's seen him around. A lot. It's a small school and a small town and he's got an intense history. She hangs around with Nathan more than she does with Lucas. She doesn't hang around with Lucas at all.

He pushes out the chair next to him for her and shoots a shy smile. She lets one corner of her mouth curl upward. She could have gotten her own chair. She's not exactly surprised he did it for her.

Their teacher, Mr. Harris, hands out a course package, and Peyton smiles as Lucas promptly snaps it into his binder with the course name so neatly printed on the spine of his book. Her black binder is covered in sketches in silver Sharpie, and she just knows she'll remember which is for which class. She tucks the papers loose into the binder - she'll get around to putting them through the rings later - and she can feel Lucas' eyes on her.

Their textbooks come around, and he takes one and passes the stack to her. She watches him print his name in all caps in the front of the book, where there's a little chart stamped there, and he puts the number of his homeroom and his grade.

Peyton writes her name along the spine on the front page, and Lucas shakes his head.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," he says quickly. "You know, they put that stamp there for a reason."

"I'm a non-conformist," she says, and he laughs.

Mr. Harris starts talking about Excel and how vital it is, and all the students know that's pretty much the biggest lie ever. As far as Peyton knows, Excel is useless. But she switches on her monitor and taps her pen against her desk until Lucas snatches it from her hand and sets it next to her. She wants to glare at him, but she can't. The smile he gives leaves her a little bit speechless.

They're handed two pages stapled together and it's one of those lame 'get to know your classmates' questionnaires that they each have to fill out. Peyton picks up her pen and taps it a couple times, looking at Lucas out of the corner of her eye.

She starts filling out the paper, and she sees Lucas mulling over his answers like they'll be written in stone for the rest of his life, and he doesn't want to be misrepresented. Really? It's 18 kids in a sweltering room who, by the beginning of their senior year, probably already know everything they want to know about each other.

"It's not the Proust questionnaire," she tells him. He turns to her with a raised brow. "Vanity Fair."

"Ah," he says, knowing that Vanity Fair prints a Proust questionnaire in the back of each issue. He's impressed that she knows that. "Well, what are you writing?"

"I have an idea," she says.

He sees a bit of a glimmer in her eyes and he's not sure what that means, but he likes it. She raises her hand and Mr. Harris calls on her. All eyes are on Peyton Sawyer - that's nothing really knew, though, since she's gorgeous and popular - as she starts talking.

"Why don't we fill these out for each other? See how well we really know our classmates?" she suggests.

There are murmurs in the class, people saying what a cool idea that is and how fun it'll be to hear everyone's answers. Mr. Harris seems to think that's a great idea, and he tells them to pick someone in the class to answer for.

Peyton plucks the page from Lucas' hand, since it's already got his name - of course - printed on the top corner, and passes hers to him, and his heart is racing. All he can think of are words like beautiful and fearless and perfect. But he thinks that might be a little too much for her to have to read out loud in class.

The first questions are easy. Name, grade, town (like, really?), favourite hobbies. His are all easy. Basketball. Literature. Physical fitness.

That last one was a snap judgement, based on the way his arms look in his tee shirt, and how the cotton drapes over his back. She likes it, she decides, and she wonders why she never took the time to _see_ him before.

He's having a considerably more difficult time with hers. Name, grade, town, he's written down quickly. Favourite hobbies? He has absolutely no clue. She's a cheerleader, but he doesn't think she particularly enjoys it. He's seen her around at the mall, but she doesn't seem to wear any of the clothes he's seen her looking at. Shopping probably isn't the right answer.

He takes a look at her binder, and sees various band names and logos replicated, and he writes down art and music, thinking that it's likely she's combined her two passions on the cover of her black binder, and maybe she won't hate him if he points it out.

Next are even harder questions. Where do you see yourself in 10 years, and what do you hope to get out of the 'high school experience.' How the hell are they supposed to answer that for each other?

So he takes a stab. He figures that in 10 years, she'll be some successful band manager or something. Maybe an artist. She'll probably have some trendy emo boyfriend who they both knew she'll never marry, but they'll both be okay with that. He feels he's painted an alright picture.

Peyton's tapping her pen again as she tries to think of where he'll be in 10 years. She starts writing and he is dying to know what she thinks of him.

The truth is, he's been watching her for a while. Too long. He's always had a bit of a thing for her, but it's been kind of low key. His closest friends know, but that's because they've seen him staring once or twice or ten times.

"What are you writing?" he asks when he sees her start jotting things down in her loopy cursive.

"Get out," she says with a laugh, turning away from him slightly. "It's a surprise."

"It's my future!" he reminds her. He's smiling. She's so amazing.

"Too bad. I'm writing it. You'll just have to wait."

He gives up and when he starts tapping his pencil, she reaches over and takes it from him and then puts it between her teeth. He's not sure he wants that pencil back. On one hand, he wants it back because he's a teenaged boy and it was _in her mouth_. As pervy as that sounds, he doesn't really care. On the other hand, he wants her to have that piece of him; to think of him every time she uses that pencil.

Mr. Harris tells them time's up, and Peyton hands Lucas his papers, folded into eighths. He smiles at her and furrows his brow, and she shrugs one shoulder as she snatches her pages back from him.

The teacher says they don't have time to read their answers, but that they'll do it tomorrow, and Lucas is about to ask her how she knows he plays basketball and reads classics, but they're told to open their textbooks before he gets a chance.

She sends him a smile at the end of class when she's gathering her books, and their eyes lock as she tucks his pencil into the back pocket of her jeans.

"See you tomorrow," she says, since it's the last class of the day, and it's the only class they have together.

"Yeah. Tomorrow," he says. He watches as she walks away, that yellow pencil on display.

He's looking at her ass without hiding it. He doesn't care. He doesn't think she does either.

----

She walks into class a week later with a coffee in her hand and her hair a mess. Her tank top is wrinkled and her jeans have a hole in the pocket. He loves it. She looks amazing.

"Hey," she says, nodding at him. "Here." She takes a chocolate chip cookie from her bag and hands it to him and he looks at her questioningly. "I made them last night. I thought you might like one."

"Chocolate chip is my favourite," he tells her.

"I figured."

"Why?" he asks, his brow furrowed.

"Predictable," she says, logging onto her computer as she slumps into her chair.

"Predictable?" he asks incredulously. "I'm not predictable."

"You play basketball every day after school until 5:30 with those guys, and that Mouth kid sits and watches. You wear jeans and tee shirts every day except in the winter when you wear hoodies. You never read any books written after like, 1970," she rattles off. "Have I missed anything?"

"Thursdays I work at the café, so I don't go to the River Court," he says softly, and she laughs. "So you think you know me, huh?"

"I didn't say I know you. I just know what you do," she explains. The look on his face lets her know that he completely understands. She kind of likes that she does. "You wanna do something?"

"Something?" he asks. She rolls her eyes and he smirks. He loves it when she does that. "It's Monday."

"Right. Basketball."

"Whatever," he scoffs. "I'll blow it off."

"Lucas!" she says in mock horror. "Blow off _basketball_? The _horror_."

"You're mean." He narrows his eyes and she shrugs her shoulder coyly. "You're a mean girl."

"I brought you a cookie!"

He takes a bite and she watches in anticipation for his reaction.

"Mmm," he lies. It's definitely not great. Somehow knowing that she's gone to the effort - however minimal - to bring him a freshly baked treat makes it taste all that much better.

"So? What do you say?"

"You? Want to do something with _me_?"

"It's not like I'm propositioning you," she laughs. "Let's just...I dunno...Go to the beach or something."

"The beach?"

"Are you going to question everything? Because that could get really annoying," she says.

"Just...you're...you," he says. "You're so cool, and I'm...not."

"I'm not cool," she scoffs. "I'm just...me."

He feels like she actually believes it, and he adores that.

"Okay. After school," he says. "Want to meet...where?"

"My car."

"Okay," he says.

He manages to get through class with her sitting next to him. It's getting more and more difficult by the day.

After school they draw looks from their classmates when he's walking towards her idling car, and when he tosses his bag into the back next to hers and hops in the passenger seat, she pulls away before he even has the door closed.

They don't go anywhere at all. They just drive back roads and listen to music and talk about music and she tells him that his assessment of her from the week before was shockingly accurate. _Maybe_, she'd said. She wasn't really sure.

"How am I supposed to know who I'll be in 10 years?" she asks. "I mean, I don't even know who I'll be in 10 days, you know?"

"Sure," he says, because he understands, but he doesn't feel like she's done talking.

"So it's like...I mean...maybe I'll still be here in 10 years. Maybe I'll be married and have babies and work at the grocery store or something."

"No, you won't."

"What?" she asks.

"You won't. You're too good for that," he tells her.

"You hardly know me."

"Yes, I do," he says. "You drive around in this car like it makes you so much cooler than everyone else. And it might." She laughs, and he has to smile. "You go to Max's record store every Thursday, not Tuesday, for the new releases, and you and Brooke go to the diner on 4th for fries every Saturday afternoon."

"Am I that predictable?" she asks. "Or are you like, a borderline stalker?"

"Neither. And you outlined my entire life the first day we ever even really spoke, so you can't judge me," he tells her. She nods her head and glances over at him, and she turns up the radio as they drive backroads that lead...anywhere.

----

She's annoyed with her friends - it happens every so often - one day in October, and she grabs her lunch and stands without warning from the table they're all sitting at. She knows they're looking at her as she walks away, wondering what's put her in a mood now. They don't really understand her, but they try, and she can't really ask too much more of them.

They stare at her and start talking a little more when she sits down at a table with Lucas, Skills, Mouth, Junk and Fergie. They're kind of looking at her like she's crazy too.

"Hi," she says nonchalantly, opening her yogurt.

"Hey," Lucas says.

All his friends know her - of course because she's Peyton Sawyer, but also because she's come around the River Court a few times and hung out - but she's never sat with them before at school.

"What's up, Skinny Girl?" Skills asks.

"School photo day with the cheerleaders? Honestly, if one more person asks me if they look fat, I'm going to lose it," Peyton explains.

"Oh," Junk says morosely. "There goes _my_ conversation starter."

She laughs, and Lucas just shakes his head. He loves that she gets along so well with his friends, and it shouldn't really matter, but it does. It really does. She doesn't look at them like they're 'geeks', because she honestly doesn't feel that way about them. He's seen her talking to Mouth in the halls a couple times, and she and Fergie have homeroom together.

"I like this table," she notes. It's a good view of the rest of the cafeteria, and she can watch everyone from afar, thankful that she isn't subjected to their conversations. "This is like, the best spot in the school."

"That's 'cause I'm here, baby," Skills says, tugging at the front of his polo shirt jokingly and making the guys groan.

"Where's Haley?" she asks. She tosses her orange to Lucas, and he rolls his eyes and smiles. He knows she hates peeling oranges, and he offered to do it for her once. It's been his job ever since.

"Tutoring," Lucas explains.

"Oh. That sucks. There's too much testosterone here," she says, nudging Lucas' knee with her own beneath the table.

None of the guys know what to say to that. They start talking about basketball and hanging out at the court after school, and Peyton tries not to laugh. They really are predictable. She kind of likes it that way.

She laughs all through lunch, because those guys are hilarious. Junk does his impression of the shop teacher, and it's so accurate that they're all left breathless from laughter. Mouth has algebra the period before Peyton does, and they agree to bring their homework to the court later so they can work together while the guys play ball.

Lucas just smiles. He didn't know she was going to hang out later. He's definitely glad she is.

She starts eating lunch with them two or three days a week. She abandons the 'popular' kids and sits with her new group of friends. She and Haley talk about music and, well, things other than basketball, and she laughs and smiles. Her best friend asks her what the deal is with her hanging out with the 'losers', and Peyton just rolls her eyes and insists they aren't losers. They really aren't. She really likes them. She thinks she might like them more than the people she's called her friends since elementary school.

She's standing at her locker one day when an imposing body leans against the locker next to hers, and she looks over to see Nathan there with his arms crossed and a weird look on his face.

"What?" she asks. She hates that he thinks this intimidating shit will work with her. They dated for a couple months sophomore year, and they were both far too stubborn to actually make it work.

"What's with you and him?"

"Who?" She knows who he's talking about. Everyone's been asking her. She hates that she can't just be friends with a guy without the questions.

"You know who."

"You could say his name," she says, kinking her brow. She knows he won't.

"Don't play games. Are you like, into him?" he asks.

"We're friends! He's in my class. I'm friends with _you_ and no one asks questions," she says in frustration. "And besides, what I do with Lucas - or anyone else for that matter - is really none of your business."

"He's...he's _him_, Peyton," Nathan reminds her.

"So because you're too much of a jackass to actually get to know him, I have to ignore him, too?" she asks incredulously, slamming her locker closed. "Sorry, King Nathan, I wasn't aware."

"Don't be a bitch."

"I could say the same thing to you," she says, and he sets his jaw. It's so easy to make him mad. "Whatever, Nate. We're just friends. Does that make you feel better?"

"I'd feel better if you weren't anything," he admits. "I don't see why everyone likes him so much."

It all starts making sense now. He's jealous. Lucas is a genuinely nice guy who has friends because he's friendly. Nathan has friends because they want to be friends with him. They want the status that comes with rolling with Nathan Scott, the team's star player and the most popular guy in school.

"Your jealous is showing," she says in amusement.

"I'm not jealous of him," he says quietly, like if anyone heard her say that, he'd lose his credibility.

"Why don't you just get to know him?" she says as they start walking down the hall. She's always felt that maybe Nathan wanted to know his brother, but was pressured not to. "Nathan, he's a good guy."

"So I've heard," he mumbles. "Dan would lose his shit if I even talked to the guy."

"He's your brother," she reminds him. "I know you like, refuse to call him that, but...you have the same blood in your veins, Nathan. That's...that's kind of big."

"Too big," he says. "I have to get to gym. See you later."

"Nathan, if you want to...I mean...I can be like, your buffer," she suggests. He shakes his head and pulls a face. "Just think about it, okay?"

"He probably hates me anyway," he says, shrugging his shoulder.

"I don't think he does. But it's your life," she says. "See ya, Nathan."

They go their separate ways, and she wonders if her two groups of friends will ever come together.

She wonders if she really wants them to.

----

"I can't study anymore!" she announces, flopping onto her back. "Seriously. This class is so fucking boring!"

"Potty mouth!" he chides. They both laugh, because they know he has his moments, too.

They have a test in their class in two days, and they decided to study together. It may not have been the best idea. She's always his biggest distraction.

"Come on. Let's _do_ something."

"Like what?" he asks.

She's always saying that. He doesn't know why he always says yes. His grades should have dropped by now, except every time she says 'let's study', he's just as eager to do that, too. They only have one class together, but they'll sit like this, him positioned at her desk, and her sprawled on her bed with her books all around her, and they'll do their homework together. They spend an odd amount of time in her bedroom. He doesn't dare mention it, for fear she'll start wanting to meet somewhere else. He likes her room.

She never suggests they do anything too crazy. She'll tell him they're going for a walk, or he's going to the River Court, or they're going to make Rice Krispie squares shaped like stars with chocolate chips on top.

"I feel like you're blowing off your friends right now," she states as she rolls off her bed. "Come on. River Court. Call Skills and Junk and Fergie and Mouth."

"You don't have to put _and_ in between..."

"Shut up! Get your ass in gear."

He does. He doesn't care that he might not get an A on the test.

He cares that he doesn't pack up his things, and he knows he'll have to come back after and pick up his books. He likes being in her room when it's dark. That might sound inappropriate, but it's not. Her red walls and brilliant artwork create a mood that he loves. Her wall of records and dark closet doors make him feel like he's in a sacred place, and maybe he is. He loves everything about her room. Most notably, that she lets him hang out in there. With her

They go walk to the River Court and she sketches him as he plays, but she doesn't show him.

He's sweet and kind of charming, and he has a smile that makes her want to tell him every single thing she's thinking. His skin will brush hers and she feels like she wants a hell of a lot more than that and it's a hell of a lot more than just teenaged hormones. But she can't _like_ him. He's _Lucas_. Their friendship is still new and it'd ruin everything if they started dating or something.

Then, as she's sitting there, a boy she knows - Thomas - comes over and starts talking to her, and she thinks he's attractive. She's always thought he's attractive. He's kind of amazing actually. His parents own a farm on the outskirts of town, and he's got a body like no other. Broad shoulders and a low slung jeans, a closely cut head of brown hair, and green eyes that rival her own.

He asks her if she wants to hang out on Friday after the game - he knows she cheers, obviously - and she finds herself saying yes before she can say no. She sees Lucas watching, but she doesn't really care, as harsh as that sounds. She and Lucas are just friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Was that Thomas?" Lucas asks needlessly after he and Fergie have won their game. He's sweating, and he raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe his brow, and she tries not to look as he does so.

"Yeah." The other boy left a few minutes ago, and she's a little uncertain about the look on Lucas' face.

"What's up with him? Trouble on the farm?" he asks, almost bitterly.

"We're going out Friday," she says.

"Oh. Really?" he asks skeptically.

He really hates that guy.

He and Thomas used to be friends. In grade school, they were practically best friends, but then Thomas' parents' farm made all sorts of money, and Lucas was still the bastard son with a single mom and the modest house. Thomas started wearing brand name clothes and expensive shoes, and all of a sudden he was hanging out with the popular crowd, rolling with Nathan Scott instead of Lucas Scott. He was one of the few non-basketball-playing boys who had the 'privilege' of hanging with the in-crowd.

He really didn't think Peyton was the type to actually date the guy.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I just...hate that guy," he explains.

He leaves out the part where Thomas hurled a lot of horrible and awful and hateful insults towards Lucas just because Nathan told him to.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because he's a jerk, Peyton. He's...a jerk."

"Well, maybe that's for me to find out," she says with a shrug. "Come on. Walk me home."

He wants to always be the one walking her home. Not Thomas.

Never stupid Thomas.

----

Thomas doesn't kiss her on their first date. She finds herself wishing he had.

The had a great time. They ate at a cool restaurant at the beach and went to a $5 movie at the run down old theater at the edge of town that she loved, and loved that he knew about. It was a scary movie, and she called him on taking her to a horror flick so she'd clutch his arm and tell him she was scared.

When she did that very thing, they both laughed.

They walked on the beach afterward because neither was ready to go home yet, and when he dropped her at her door, he thanked her and said he had a lot of fun.

So she starts seeing a little more of him.

They do things together that she never, ever thought she'd do. She wraps her arms around his torso as they ride horseback across his parents' property. She holds baby chickens in her palms, and ignores him when he tells her that those chickens, when they're old enough, will be sent to slaughter. She stays away from the main barn, though, and Thomas laughs when she tells him she just can't deal with the smell of the cows. She sits with their border collie, Brandy, while he does what he has to do, and he smiles every time he sees her with his beloved dog's snout resting just above her knee as she sits on the porch steps.

His parents love her. Dave and Joanne went to high school with Peyton's mom and dad, and they're thrilled that Thomas 'convinced her' to date him. She blushes at that compliment (because it was meant as one), and Thomas rolls his eyes, but she can see he's embarrassed by his parents' words.

But they haven't talked about 'what they are', and Peyton's a little afraid of that conversation. Thomas, by reputation, has never been the type to have a girlfriend, and she's not sure if she's his, or if he wants her to be. They kiss and laugh and spend time together, but he's never told her what he wants.

She's about to ask one day when her phone rings in her pocket, and she notices that he lets out a frustrated breath when he sees Lucas' name on the screen. She takes the call and tells Lucas she'll be by the café in a bit to hang out. She won't cut out her friends for a guy she's sort of seeing, and she wants to make that abundantly clear.

"What's with you two?" he asks abruptly as they walk along the dirt road near his house. He's got a long blade of grass in his strong hands, and he's wrapping it around his index finger.

She thinks he might be a little nervous.

"We're friends," she says simply. She shrugs her shoulder because it's really not a big deal. "He's nice."

"Yeah."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just...you spend a lot of time with him," he says. His green eyes have darkened and she doesn't know why that is. Those eyes are kind of a mystery to her.

She doesn't know why it dawns on her in that moment that she can always see everything in Lucas' eyes. It shouldn't matter.

But it might.

"You spend a lot of time with your friends," she says. She knows it's not the same, but she won't let him know that.

"Not alone with other girls," he reminds her.

"If you did, should I be worried?" she asks seriously.

"What does that mean?"

"It means...I don't really know what's going on with you and I. I mean...I like you and everything, but we haven't had the stupid talk we're supposed to have."

"You are a weird girl," he says with a laugh and she shoves his shoulder. He grabs her hand and weaves his fingers through hers as he stops walking. "I like you, too. I wouldn't hang out with you if I didn't."

"Okay."

"And I don't want to see anyone else. And I don't want you to see anyone else," he explains. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispers. She leans up to kiss him, and he pulls her close.

The sky opens up and it looks like rain, and they hold hands as they run back to his house. They're at least a half mile away, and it starts to pour just as the house comes into view, and they're soaked by the time they're walking down his driveway, having decided that running was futile.

He grabs a couple towels and a blanket, and his mom makes them hot cocoa, and they sit on the covered porch and watch the lightning with Brandy curled up at their feet.

He's so not the boy she thought she'd be with. But it seems to be working alright.

----

Just after Christmas, a little over a month after they've started dating, Thomas invites Peyton over. His parents are away at an indoor soccer tournament with his little brother, Aaron, and she knows he's nervous. He's running the farm while they're away, so it's just him and four farm hands, and they all answer to him. Thankfully, three of them are full time employees, so he doesn't have to give orders or anything.

It's a Saturday evening, and Peyton spent the whole day with Haley, Lucas and Skills at the mall, where she had an awkward run in with Brooke and Bevin. Her cheerleader friends have accused her of 'drifting', saying she's spending all her time with Thomas (who she insists to everyone isn't her boyfriend, because they've never actually called each other that) or the 'losers'. Peyton doesn't appreciate either accusation.

Lucas told her it was fine if she wanted to go with her friends, and she answered that she _was_ with her friends, and then pulled his arm towards the food court, insisting she needed a Blizzard from Dairy Queen and some curly fries. In that order. Her three friends just laughed, but they all did the same thing.

She shows up at Thomas' house, and it's January, and she's cold. He's got a fire going in the wood-burning fireplace, and he pulls her into a hug as soon as she's got her jacket and scarf off. He brushes his lips against hers, and she lets herself be warmed up by him.

He doesn't really love that she's wearing a Keith Scott Body Shop sweatshirt. He knows who that sweatshirt belongs to. But he stays quiet, because she has told him he has nothing to worry about.

She's managed to keep the two boys away from each other, and she's not sure that's for him, or for Lucas, or for her. She doesn't want to play mediator, and she doesn't want to make Lucas uncomfortable. She thinks Thomas might just not care. It's just recently started bugging her.

They park themselves on the floor in front of the fire, and he puts on some Johnny Cash - one of the very few artists they actually agree upon. She talks about her day and how she's worried about her friendships and she feels like she's caught in some sort of strange gang war, and that Brooke's definitely pissed at her. He tells her to stop worrying, and that it'll all work out, and that she should go see Brooke the next day and talk it out. She kisses him softly and thanks him.

She doesn't know why she doesn't want him to be her 'official' boyfriend. He kind of is, but she doesn't want him to have the title. She gets the impression that he kind of doesn't want it, and she's not sure why that doesn't hurt her.

"Come on," he says. "Come with me."

"What? Where?" she asks as she places her hand in his and he pulls her up off the floor.

"Just a drive. I want to show you something."

She doesn't argue. She just follows him to the door and they bundle up in their jackets, and he grabs the keys to the old pickup he drives around sometimes. He's got a new car that his parents bought for him, but he kind of loves that old truck.

She calls him a farm boy and giggles when he turns the key and smiles when the diesel engine turns over. He _is_ a farm boy. He likes it that way.

They drive to the edge of his property, over land that isn't really a road, but has tractor ruts in it, and he blasts the heat until it's almost too hot to bear. He parks overlooking a narrow creek. She can see horses grazing in their pen and stepping one by one into their barn for the night. It's kind of beautiful.

He leaves the engine running and leans across the bench seat to kiss her, and she lets him.

They haven't talked about having sex. He's never pressured her, and she's never really left him frustrated - she's a virgin, but she's not a prude - and even if she did, she thinks he's a nice enough guy that he'd still respect her wanting to wait.

But this time, when his hand moves to the button of her jeans, she feels like she's ready. She doesn't love him, and she doesn't think she ever will, but he's good to her, and she knows he'll be tender with her. He's had sex before, with the girl he dated over the summer, and she's really enjoying the confident way he's placing kisses to her neck. Their jackets are on the floor where her feet used to be, and they're laying on the seat with him on top of her. Her breathing is shallow, and his eyes are dark, and when she reaches for his belt, he pulls away a little.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes," she insists.

"Thank God," he says with a smirk, and she kisses him because she's not sure if she should hate him for saying that or not.

It's a little awkward and it hurts a little, but he's aware of all that and does his best to make her feel better. She's sweaty and the windows are fogged up, and this is such a cliché, that after when she's laying in his arms, she fucking hates herself a little for giving in. Sex with the farm boy in the cab of his truck by a creek bed. She's so not that girl. But it's too late to take it back, and she almost wants to cry. It's probably normal to cry after you have sex for the first time, but she doesn't want to do that, either, because that would just make it even more cliché.

They drive back to his place after a while and he asks her if she's alright. She insists that she is, and smiles at the right times, and she hangs out for a bit before she says she has to go.

She's in her car and pulling out of his driveway when she starts to cry, and she calls the one person she thinks could make her feel better and tells him to meet her at her house. He can hear her crying through the phone, and he's got no clue what he's walking into, but he's for damn sure going to walk into it. He can't just let her cry. He's never actually seen her cry. Whoever's made her do it is going to regret it.

He walks up the stairs to her bedroom, and she's wearing a little tank top, and she's got her sheets pulled up to her chin. She's showered, so her hair is a wet, curly disaster, and she's not wearing makeup and she's crying.

She's still beautiful to him.

"Hi," she says as he sits next to her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Peyton," Lucas whispers. He boldly tucks a wet curl behind her ear, and her chin trembles as more tears fall.

Because how is that one simple touch better than _any_ of the ones she received from Thomas?

"I'm so stupid," she says softly.

"No, you aren't." He's confused and he has no idea what she's talking about, but he knows she's not stupid.

"I thought...I don't know what I thought," she admits. "It wasn't...I shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry."

Lucas may be one of her closest friends now, but she still feels weird telling him anything to do with her love life. Sex life. Whatever you want to call it.

"It's okay. You know I'll listen." He smiles and her heart breaks a little more, and she doesn't know why.

"I don't even know why I did it," she says, really hoping he'll catch on without her having to spell it out. "But it felt...like the time, and now..."

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, and it's all he can do not to get really angry when he realizes what she's saying.

"You...with _him_?" he asks sadly.

"It was...I know you don't like him, but..."

"I can't believe you had sex with him," he says.

She turns onto her back, and her tank top shifts a bit, and despite how upset he is, he still notices the curve of her breast and how smooth her skin is, and he really hates that he wants her so badly and she so obviously doesn't want him.

"Why are _you_ freaking out?" she asks in confusion.

"Just...because. I have to go," he says quickly. "Bye."

He'd walks out the door before she can stop him.

That really wasn't what she thought would happen when she called him.

She cries again - big, ugly tears - when she starts to think that maybe it should have been him.

----

She and Thomas break up a few days later. It's mutual, and she says she's just not sure he's right for her, and he nods his head like he's known it all along. He tells her that he's kind of been interested in someone else, and she wants to cry again, because she realizes that all he wanted was to have sex with her, and as soon as he took her virginity, he was done with her.

She doesn't know when she got so stupid.

Brooke finds her crying in the girls' washroom, and when Peyton explains the whole thing to her best friend - Brooke hadn't known about the sex until that moment - Brooke just holds her and lets her cry, and they skip their next class, sitting there on the floor of the washroom.

Brooke tells Nathan just enough of the story to have him clenching his fists - Peyton's like a sarcastic, bitchy little sister to him - and saying that Thomas is _'going to regret it'._

Lucas sees Nathan stalking down the hall towards Thomas, and he instinctively follows. He has no idea what the hell's going on, but he can assume.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Nathan asks, shoving Thomas back against the lockers with a thud.

"Nothing! What's your damage?" Thomas asks in confusion.

"You know what my _damage_ is!" Nathan roars. "You're such a dick, man."

Students are crowding around to hear these 'friends' argue with one another. They know Nathan basically runs the school, and if Thomas has done something to piss him off, he's going to end up a social outcast. That's just the way high school is.

"Is this about Peyton?" Thomas kinks his brow, and there's a smirk on his face Lucas wants to punch. He's right there next to Nathan, watching this whole thing go down. He's happy Nathan's looking out for the girl, too.

"You used her," Nathan points out.

"Used her? Is that what she told you?" Thomas asks with a laugh. "And are you sure you want to talk about using girls."

Nathan reaches out and quickly jams his forearm across Thomas' chest, holding the guy against the wall. There is rage in Nathan's blue eyes, and he's the bigger of the two of them, and everyone around knows that if Thomas doesn't back down, this is going to get ugly.

"Don't fuck with her."

"Too late," Thomas says stupidly.

Nathan releases the guy - though it's really, really hard to do it - after one last shove, because he realizes that if he gets into another real fight, he'll be suspended from playing ball, and his dad will kill him.

Peyton and Brooke are standing there in the back of the crowd, watching the whole thing, and Peyton is mortified. She really doesn't need the entire school knowing she lost her virginity to the guy she broke up with two days later.

But she loves that Nathan's sticking up for her. She sees Lucas standing there, too, and though they haven't talked since that night in her bedroom, she thinks it might mean something that he's willing to work with Nathan _and_ get into a fight defending her.

"And she gave it up. It's not like it took much convincing," Thomas says.

He's no sooner gotten the words out that Lucas has reached forward and hit him with a right hook. Murmurs rush through the crowd, and when Thomas lunges towards Lucas, Nathan intervenes, hitting the guy with another punch. Another of Thomas' friends - a dumb as nails kid named Adam that Lucas has always hated - tackles Lucas, and the four boys end up throwing punches at one another until Thomas and Adam are slumped against the wall and Nathan and Lucas are left standing, albeit a little bloodied.

Nathan looks over at Lucas, and Lucas looks at Nathan, and they nod to let each other know that they're fine. There's also maybe an understanding in there that they've never really shared. That was the first time they'd ever done anything together in their lives.

Principal Turner shows up and suspends the four boys on the spot, and they're all smart enough not to argue.

Lucas picks up his bag and angrily walks towards the doors with Nathan following behind him. Brooke and Peyton start towards the two boys, rushing down the hall to catch up.

"Hey Lucas," Nathan calls when the blonde is halfway across the quad. Lucas stops and turns around. "Thanks. For having my back."

"Yeah. Same," Lucas says. His nerves are still shot, and he's still angry, and his eye is already swelling. He can taste blood from his split lip, and the knuckles of his right hand are killing him.

"You didn't have to do that," Nathan insists. "I mean, I know she's your friend, but...I totally started that shit."

"The guy got what was coming to him," Lucas says, shrugging one shoulder.

"Luke!" Peyton shouts, rushing towards him. "You _idiot_."

She hits his shoulder with her canvas bag, and he cowers away from her. Nathan laughs, and she glares and hits him too.

"We were defending you!" Nathan says, though he's still a little amused by her outburst.

"I didn't ask you to!" she reminds them. "Now you're both suspended, and the entire school thinks I'm some slut!"

"Just stand next to Brooke and no one will call _you_ a slut," Nathan says. Brooke's jaw drops and she hits him with _her_ bag, the metal clasp clipping his shoulder blade. "Stop hitting me!"

"I'm sorry," Lucas says. "But come on, Peyton. You can't expect us to just let that guy get away with that."

"Us?" she asks, putting her hand on her hip. "What are you? A _team_ now?"

"Defending girls' honour," Nathan says, smiling at Lucas a little. "I guess it's a Scott thing."

The four of them are quiet, because it's the first time that Nathan has ever really acknowledged that they're even related.

"Come on. Let's go to my place," Peyton says, starting off towards her car.

"Peyton, we have class!" Brooke reminds her.

"We're skipping!"

The four of them spend the afternoon eating frozen pizza and sipping root beer in Peyton's living room, talking about just about anything as MTV plays in the background.

She's happy, actually, though she's almost certain she'll be suspended now, too, for ditching class.

She's got guys sticking up for her, and she loves them for that, and it's her that has them almost building some sort of a relationship.

Lucas stays after Brooke and Nathan have left, and he apologizes for the other day when he walked away from her when she needed him.

That he's even apologizing for it tells her that he's maybe the sweetest guy in the world.

And that maybe it definitely should have been him.

-

_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Peyton and Lucas have two classes together their second semester of their senior year. Geography and english. They joke that it's the perfect trade off, because she's great at geography, and he's great at english, and now they can partner up for projects and study together and help each other out.

Like they wouldn't do that anyway.

The two groups haven't really melded together, and they're almost certain that's a good thing. Lucas and Nathan have the odd conversation and can be seen getting along together, and Nathan works out with the River Court guys every so often. Peyton and Brooke will sit with Haley and Mouth at the picnic table and talk about, well, anything, basically. Brooke's stopped calling the other group 'losers', because she realizes that Peyton was right. They aren't losers.

But they all still sit at separate tables at school, and it's not like Brooke and Haley are hanging out one on one or anything.

Peyton's sketching in the library one day when someone approaches her, and she can't help but make a joke.

"Are you lost?"

"Funny," he says.

"Nathan, I didn't even know you knew we _had_ a library," she says with a laugh.

"Whatever. Look, I want to talk to you about something," he says seriously.

"Okay," she says, clicking the cap back onto her marker. "What's up?"

"What um...I mean...What do you think about Haley?" he asks nervously, running his hand over the back of his neck. She doesn't point out that Lucas does the same thing, but she's thinking it.

"I think she's awesome," she says. "Why?"

"No, I mean...what...Do you think..." he stutters. "Never mind."

"Nathan," she says softly, leaning in to speak to him. "Do you like Haley?"

"I just think...she's really pretty, and...She probably hates me, but..."

"Haley doesn't hate people," Peyton insists gently. "But she's not...I mean, she's kind of one of a kind."

"Out of my league, you mean," he states.

"No!" she says quickly. "No. I just mean that she's not like the other girls you date."

"Maybe that's why I like her so much," he admits, his cheeks going red when he realizes what he's just said.

"Go for it," Peyton says. "She thinks you're hot. But if you tell her I told you that, I'll never talk to you again."

He raises his hands in surrender as he smiles, and he says, "what about you and Luke?"

"What about us?" she asks with a shrug.

"I know you're not that blind."

"There's nothing going on, Nathan," she says, shaking her head.

"Yeah. Nothing. Except the guy like, wants to marry you and have your babies," he scoffs.

"Ew!" she says, swatting his arm. "That is a gross visual."

"I'm just saying. It's not nothing, Peyton," he says quietly.

"Wasn't it you at the beginning of the year telling me that..."

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupts. "But I guess things change."

"I guess," she whispers, more to herself than to him.

He stands and says goodbye, and she wonders if maybe a lot more has changed than what it looks like on the surface.

She looks down at the sketch she's working on, and she rolls her eyes at herself. Two figures on the beach. It's no secret who they are. They're holding hands.

Maybe it's not nothing.

And it scares the hell out of her.

----

It's April, and Peyton's sprawled on her bed in a pair of cotton shorts and a Ravens cheerleading tank top, and she's growing increasingly frustrated with this 'Shakespeare bullshit', as she keeps calling it, much to Lucas' dismay.

"It's Shakespeare. Classic. It's _Macbeth_! You can't _not_ read this stuff," he says.

"I've read it. I don't have to enjoy it," she counters. "Seriously. It's like, the most depressing thing I've ever read. Everyone dies and hates each other and is all guilty and stuff."

"Exactly. It's amazing," Lucas says.

"Whatever. Can we move on?" she asks. "I'm sick of working. I want to _do_ something. The sun is out!"

"Peyton, we have our test on Monday."

"Which is two whole days away," she says, standing from the bed. "Come on, Luke. I want to drive with the top down and..."

"Feel the wind in your hair? Predictable," he says. It's one of their inside jokes, and they laugh every time it's used.

She pulls a denim skirt up over her shorts, then pulls the cotton down her legs, and he's rendered speechless. The girl certainly knows how to get a reaction from him. He doesn't know why she didn't just step into the bathroom or something, but he's definitely alright with having seen her make that little maneuver.

"Stop staring, perv," she says, tossing her shorts at him.

"Sorry! But...come on," he says. "That's not fair."

"Not fair?" she asks with her brow raised as she tosses him her keys. He's driving. "I watch you run around at the River Court with your shirt off all the time."

She turns around quickly before he can see her blush. She's never said anything like that to him before, and she's really embarrassed, and she doesn't want him to know it. It could have just been friendly joking. If he sees her blushing, he'll know she meant that she's insanely attracted to him, and it's damn near torture when she has to watch him, shirtless and sweating.

They drive for a few hours. Well, they drive to the far end of the beach and sit there for a while in her car with the top back, sipping on milkshakes and listening to music and the waves. She tips her head back as they talk, and he smiles every time he makes her laugh. They talk about school and Nathan and Haley's budding relationship, and the fact that both groups are basically blending together now that Bevin and Skills are dating and Brooke and Mouth are practically best friends.

Lucas just shakes his head. He says that if she hadn't been almost late for that business class on the first day of school and had to sit next to him, they may never have all come together. It's kind of true, and it makes her think. She really can't picture her life without him now, and it's strange.

They end up at her house just after dark, and they head back up to her bedroom, with him insisting they need to get some actual studying done. She rolls her eyes and says he's too serious all the time, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing.

They're both on their stomachs on her bed as he tries to explain the themes of the play in detail so she'll understand a little better and do well on their in-class essay on Monday. She's sipping a Diet Coke through a blue straw and swinging her legs in the air, and it still amazes him sometimes that the girl she is to everyone else is never the girl she is with him. She's freer and happier and she smiles more. Her eyes sparkle a little and she laughs louder, and he wonders if all that means something.

She rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow with her head in her hand, and she's looking at him like she's trying to figure something out.

"What?" he asks with a grin.

"Just thinking."

"Thinking what?" He raises his brow. He knows that's a dangerous question.

"You ever think you and I would be good together?" she asks bluntly.

_Yes. Yes. Hell yes. We'd be perfect_, he thinks.

"Um...maybe," he says, though words are hard to come by. "We're pretty good at this."

"Friends?" she asks and he nods. "Yeah. We are." He smiles and she does too. "I was just thinking...We make a good team, and you...you make me happy, I guess."

"I do?" he asks needlessly. He knows that.

"Uh huh. And you're kind of sexy," she admits quietly, her eyes locking with his.

"You...you think I'm sexy?" he asks. His heart is beating in his ears and he thinks he's living in some sort of dream. Or that at the end of this conversation, she's going to say she's just kidding or something.

"Luke, you're...yeah. You're sexy," she says, her eyes raking over his body as he lays there on her bed.

"Okay, are you drunk or something?" he asks with a laugh.

"Luke!" she says, shoving him a bit. She almost falls backwards off the bed, and he places his hand on her hip to steady her. She swallows thickly, and she thinks he might kiss her.

"You're...I think you're beautiful," he says softly, looking into her eyes.

No one other than her dad has ever really called her beautiful. She loves that Lucas has.

She bites her bottom lip and all she can think of is how he might taste and how his lips might feel and if he's as good at kissing as he is at everything else.

He's leaning towards her and she's about to find all that out, when her phone rings.

She takes it as a sign.

They go back to studying, which is probably what they should have been doing all along, and he leaves shortly after. He hugs her before he goes, and it leaves her a little breathless.

Peyton scores higher than he does on their in-class essay. He was distracted (she had to wear a skirt that day?), but he still got 86%, so it's nothing to scoff at.

She just won't let him live down the fact that she got 88%.

He reminds her that she barely understood the material until he explained it, and she kinks her brow and grins and tells him that she understood just fine, but she just likes hearing him talk about literature.

It's probably the sexiest thing she's ever said to him.

----

The graduation party they go to at the Scott beach house is loud and there's plenty of alcohol, and it's basically everything they expected their graduation party to be. They do shots and toast to being finished with high school, and they all talk about the colleges they're going to and how much fun this last summer is going to be.

Nathan and Haley are off to Duke. She'd been planning to go there anyway, and Nathan insists that's what makes her perfect for him, though everyone's aware that there's a lot more to it than that. Brooke's headed to fashion design school in L.A., Mouth's off to take broadcast journalism at UNC, and Skills is playing Division II ball at a college a few hours away. Bevin, to everyone's surprise, is taking early childhood education at the same school. Fergie and Junk are attending the local community college, taking some business courses with dreams of opening up a really great sports bar in Tree Hill.

Lucas is taking literature at UNC, and Peyton is off to Wake Forest to major in business. They're happy that they'll all be relatively close, with the exception of Brooke, and they know that there'll be plenty of visits between UNC, Duke, and Wake Forest.

Especially UNC and Wake Forest.

It's just after 2 a.m., and Peyton's had a couple shots. She's not drunk, but she's a little more touchy feely than usual, and that's working to Lucas' advantage. He's sitting on the sofa in the living room when she walks in after using the washroom, and it's basically just their group of friends left at the house. Junk stole her spot when she got up, and she puts her hands on her hips.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" she asks.

"Lucas' lap," Brooke says, and everyone laughs, thinking it's just a joke.

Peyton's eyes lock with Lucas', and he just smiles and shakes his head. He knows she's going to do it.

She crosses the room and sits down on top of him, and his arm drapes around her back to hold her there. She winks at him when no one can see, and they're all laughing at her. She doesn't care.

They all carry on a conversation, and they all seem to forget - as happens often - that Lucas and Peyton aren't an actual couple.

"So what are you two going to do next year?" Brooke asks. "I mean, not seeing each other like, all day, every day."

"It won't be that bad," Lucas says, and Peyton raises her brow. "No. I mean, it'll suck, but...we aren't that far apart. We can make it work."

For a moment there, she thinks _he's_ forgotten that they're not a real couple.

The subject is quickly changed, but Peyton can't stop thinking about it. It _is_ going to suck not seeing him every day. Not having him to talk to every day. He insists that they'll still talk all the time, and they have texts and IM and email, and they're really only an hour and a half away from each other, but she knows it's all about to change. Well, in a couple months when they actually leave for school.

And his hand is resting just above the pocket of her jeans as she sits on his lap, and she's suddenly very, very aware of all that. She's aware that she can feel his breath on her arm every time he looks around her to speak to Nathan, who's sitting on the other sofa. She can feel the rumble of his laughter, and she can count the specks of sapphire in his eyes every time she looks at him, and she knows they've never been this close to one another.

When everyone's talking amongst themselves and Skills and Bevin are leaving, Peyton leans down to speak into Lucas' ear and says, "you wanna go to my place?"

He just nods his head and sets down his half-finished beer (only his second of the night) and stands. He doesn't know what's about to happen, but he knows what he'd love to happen.

They say their goodbyes and catch a ride with Skills, who drops them off at the door and smirks knowingly at Lucas, who just bumps his friend's fist and thanks him for the ride.

"It's all going to change, isn't it?" she asks once they're in her room. She's standing right in front of him with her back to the bed, and he really doesn't know how to answer.

"Maybe," he says honestly. "I don't know, Peyton."

"I don't know what to do," she says. "I know we have the rest of the summer, but it's like...I don't know." He doesn't know what to say to that, so he says nothing. "Do you think it'd be weird if we...if you and I...fooled around?"

His heart stops. He's sure of it.

"Peyton, you've...you've been drinking, and..."

"I'm not drunk, Lucas. My last drink was at midnight," she says indignantly. He checks the time and it's closing in on 3:30 a.m. "I just can't stop thinking about it."

He doesn't want to say no, and she clearly knows what she wants, and he wants it too. Badly. He always has. He wants her to want to kiss him and to be afraid of things changing when they go to school, because he's absolutely terrified of it. He knows she's going to meet all sorts of guys - _look_ at her - and have all sorts of experiences. And he's just the quiet virgin boy she knows from high school.

"About...kissing?" he asks lamely. He takes a step towards her, though it's not a conscious thing, it's just something his body is doing without any real instruction.

"Don't you think about it?" Her voice is small because the way he's looking at her is already answering her question.

"I always have," he says. She smiles and bites her lip in the most adorable way, and she nods her head.

"Lucas," she whispers. She reaches for his wrist and pulls him closer, and his hands find her hips. She can tell he's nervous, and she wonders how many girls he's kissed, though it's so not the right time to be thinking it.

He's taking too long, and she's about to lean up and just kiss him, when he leans down and just kisses her. Her throat gets a little tight, because she now realizes this is really what she's wanted all along, she was just too stupid to see it. His lips are soft and he tastes like..._Lucas_. It's her best kiss ever, and she knows it.

His hands move to cup her cheeks, and she grasps his shirt at his sides, and then his tongue is sweeping into her mouth, and it's so perfect that he hates that he didn't have the courage to do it sooner.

He doesn't know what exactly she meant by 'fooling around', but after a few minutes of just standing there kissing, he pushes her back and lays her down on the bed. They pull apart and she's smiling up at him and pushing at the fabric of his shirt, so he pulls it up over his head before he lays down on top of her, resting just a little bit of his weight on her.

His hand travels up her side as he kisses her again, and she's clutching his back when he moves to kiss her neck, nipping the flesh because he remembers that one time - for some reason - she told him she likes that.

He kisses along her jaw line, and when he gets to her ear, he whispers, "so beautiful," and she thinks she never wants him to leave her bedroom. Ever.

She feels amazing beneath him, and he's not the most experienced guy - at all - but he slips his hand beneath her black tank top, and she's moaning when his palm finds her breast. That's the best sound he's ever heard, and he wants to hear it again. He kisses down between her breasts and over her shirt, then he pushes up the fabric to kiss her stomach as her hands feather through his hair.

He is so much better at this than he knows, she thinks. She knows he's a virgin, and she doesn't care, and she doesn't know how far he's gone with a girl, but she doesn't think it's much further than this.

He smiles before he kisses her again, and she really loves all this. He's good at it. Really good.

But he's Lucas. He's basically her best friend. She's so happy she has him. She loves him in that way that you love your best friends.

She absolutely cannot lose him, and she can't start a relationship with him, then be in two different places as they each try to figure out who they are in the world.

She gets scared. Really good and scared.

"Lucas," she breathes out just as his hand has moved across her stomach towards the button of her jeans. "Lucas wait."

He pulls away immediately, and she has to smile at even that. He's so sweet and so nice; most guys would be groaning in frustration at that point.

"I can't," she says softly. "We can't. We...can't."

Not what he wanted to hear.

He kisses her gently one last time, because it might be _the last time_, and rolls onto his back beside her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"No. Don't...don't say you're sorry," he insists. "Don't."

"I'm sorry. I thought I wanted..."

"Peyton, it's alright," he says, turning his head to look at her. "It's okay."

"I don't want to be scared," she says. She's finding it really hard not to cry.

"I'm scared out of my mind," he admits, and they both laugh softly. "That would have been...I've never..."

"I know," she says. His face changes, wondering if he was that bad. "No! You were...it was really amazing. I mean, I just assumed." He nods his head and looks back to the ceiling. "You wanted it to be me?"

He wants to tell her that he's always wanted it to be her, ever since he even knew what sex was. But that could sound a little creepy.

"I did."

"I'm sorry."

"No. No. I didn't mean...I mean I _do_. Of course I do...I want it to be you. You're _Peyton_. And it's..."

"Can I ask you something?" She rolls onto her side and her breast brushes his arm because of how close they are, but neither cares anymore. "How long have you had a crush on me."

"Oh God," he groans in embarrassment. "Am I that transparent?"

"No," she says with a giggle. "I just...I guess I didn't see it until recently. Maybe that day in here when you called me beautiful."

"You are," he says, though he knows that's really not the point. "I've always had a crush on you."

"Always?" she asks.

"Since the first day I saw you," he says softly, reaching out and placing his palm on her cheek.

She closes her eyes and lets out a breath. This is the boy she should have saved herself for.

This is the boy she should want to sleep with now. And she does want to. But she knows that if they do that, there's no going back, and they'll be something big and scary, and she's not sure she's ready for that.

"I'm sorry," she repeats.

"Would you stop saying that?"

"Sorry."

They both laugh and she lays on her back and buries her face in her hands. He reaches over and rests his hand over her stomach, and he kisses her cheek sweetly. She knows he's about to say he should go. She doesn't want him to. But if he stays, it'll be awkward when they wake up, and she doesn't want that either.

"I'll...I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" he says, standing from the bed.

"Okay," she says, nodding gently.

Neither of them says another word, and he slips through the door.

As soon as she's heard the front door close, she realizes what a massive mistake she's made.

But she can't tell him that, because when they talk two days later - not the next day, like they said - he tells her it's probably for the best, and that they got carried away, and that he really wants her badly, but they've both got big things happening in their lives and the last thing he wants is for them to end up holding each other back or resenting one another.

The entire time he's talking, she thinks he's lying.

She almost hopes he is.

But she agrees with him and they spend the rest of the summer with their friends and joking and laughing like they always have. They spend days on Brooke's father's boat, and Lucas barbecues and she and Haley and Brooke lay out in Brooke's backyard and soak up sun and talk about boys, and no one knows about the night Peyton and Lucas almost slept together.

By the end of the summer, it's such a distant memory that she sometimes thinks it didn't happen.

The night before they leave for their respective schools, he shows up in her bedroom and kisses her without saying a word. Nothing more happens. He just kisses her that once, with his hands holding her face and his lips pressed to hers, and neither says anything about it. They go to the last hurrah party at Brooke's house, and Peyton pretends it isn't confusing the hell out of her that she wants Lucas so badly, but doesn't want him at all, all at the same time.

It doesn't even make sense to her.

----

She's been at Wake Forest just over a month when Lucas calls her one night, a little too late for their normal conversation.

Nothing's really changed. They do talk or email every day, and they're still best friends, and they IM when they're both doing homework. They still distract each other just as much as they used to, he'll say. It's definitely true. But their grades are still miraculously good.

She loves her school and her apartment, and she knows he loves his school and his student townhouse that he shares with Mouth and another guy in the broadcast program. She's met some great friends, and Lucas hangs around with all sorts of writers and intellectuals who he says 'challenge' him. She knows that means that they talk about literature over pitchers of beer, but she's happy that he's happy.

She's a little unnerved that he's calling her at midnight on a Thursday, though.

"Hey," she says. She's still up, sitting in her pajamas and a sweatshirt that she stole from him once upon a time.

"Hi," he says. There's something in his voice, even in that one syllable, that has her nervous.

"What's going on?"

"I have to tell you something," he says. "And I may have had one beer with the guys, but this isn't some drunk and random thing, and I know what I'm saying, and I'll remember it in the morning."

"Lucas, what's going on?" she asks. "You're freaking me out."

"I love you," he says seriously, his voice taking a tone she's never actually heard before.

"What?"

"I'm in love with you. I think I have been since the first day of school last year. Maybe before then. I just...I know everything's messed up because we're not in the same place, but...I love you," he says, rambling like a lunatic, he realizes. "So...yeah."

She swallows the scream she wants to let out, because he just can't have said all that. It's not fair and she doesn't want him to have said it, and if she'd known that was what he was going to say when he called, she wouldn't have answered.

She doesn't know how to respond to all that. So she just says, "Lucas."

"You don't...You don't feel the same," he says, almost as though he'd expected it. "That's okay."

"No. I mean...I love you, Luke. You know that. But not...not that way," she says, and she's sure it's the lamest thing she's ever said in her life. But what else was she supposed to say?

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "God. I'm sorry. I've totally...Have I lead you on? I did. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

"Peyton, it's not...there's nothing to be sorry for," he insists. "Actually, it feels pretty good. Being in love with you. Not so much the unrequited part, but...I think I can handle it."

"Luke."

"No. I just...I needed you to know."

"I don't know what to say," she admits. "I don't want things to get weird."

"Well, we almost slept together, and we got through that," he says, intending it as a joke, but it just makes him ache for things he can't have. Namely, her. Everything with her.

"I'm such a bitch. I _did_ lead you on. I basically...God. I threw myself at you, then pushed you away, and now..."

"Peyton," he interrupts her, speaking softly. "You're the girl for me, and I know it."

A tear falls from her eye, and she hadn't even thought she was crying. But of course she's crying, because this is all so stupid.

"You have the worst timing, you know that?" she says.

"Sorry," he says, and he laughs a little bit, because it's better than yelling into the phone and telling her that she has to love him back; that he needs her to.

They talk a while longer, just about the usual stuff, but in the back of both of their minds, his words are replaying over and over.

He's wondering if he shouldn't have said them.

She's wondering if she should have said them back.

----

They don't see each other until Christmas. They don't say it, but they both think it'd be awkward, at least a little bit. Her father comes to visit her for Thanksgiving, and Lucas goes home, and when Nathan invites them to one of his games, Peyton actually has a final the next day, and she's selfishly relieved that she doesn't have to go.

But they still keep in touch, albeit not every single day anymore. It's OK though. She doesn't want him to be attached to her, and more importantly, she doesn't want to be attached to him.

Well, she does. But she doesn't. It's all very confusing, and she can't explain any of it, and she hates that she can't. If she could, she might understand it herself. But she just can't. He's kind of the perfect guy, and he's in love with her, and she doesn't love him back and she doesn't know why.

He's sitting on the front steps of her home when she gets to Tree Hill, and she rushes out to hug him so fast that she almost forgets to put the car in park.

He's standing and laughing when she flies into his arms, and he closes his eyes and breathes her in a little bit. It's been far, far too long since he's held her this way, and he's glad she doesn't appear to want to let go.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, her breath tickling his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I know your dad's away, and I didn't want you to come back to an empty house," he explains as she pulls away.

There's a lump in her throat, because that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for her.

"Thank you," she says softly.

She hugs him again, and he smiles because he's missed her so damn much, and he really doesn't ever want to let her go again. They get her bags from the car and he carries them inside, and they spend their day laying on her bed, catching up and laughing, and she remembers how much she loves this.

Nathan and Haley come back the next day, surprising everyone with the news that they're married, and Skills and Bevin have been in town for a while. Mouth is pouting because Brooke wasn't able to come home from California, though they all really do understand because her parents are there. They all do know, however, that those friends of hers in Tree Hill are more of a family to her than her parents ever were.

Lucas and Peyton are essentially inseparable. It's been a week and a half since they've been home, and they haven't spent much time apart at all. They sleep apart, only because they know it'd raise questions if they didn't.

They're all drinking together one night, and they break out a bottle of tequila, which Peyton immediately says is bad news, but Nathan grabs the shot glasses and pours everyone a round, and she can't say no. She's the first to go, and she licks the salt from between her thumb and forefinger, takes the shot, and sucks the lime, and everyone cheers around her, because they're all basically half cut anyway. Lucas' hand finds her hip, and his fingers tuck into her back pocket, and she takes a deep breath. No one else can see what he's doing, and she's almost ready to take him out of that house right then and there.

But she's done that before. It didn't work out so well.

She doesn't think she'd get scared this time, though that might be the gin and tequila talking.

Bevin cries for body shots, and Peyton rolls her eyes when it's Lucas' turn to drink and they all look at her. Of course, she's his body.

Oh, if he only knew.

They tell him to pick his favourite body part of hers, and he smirks in a way that makes her want to kiss him, and his hand caresses her leg. His touch is so soft and so intimate that it makes her blush, and she doesn't care that everyone notices.

She gets up and sits on the island in the kitchen of the Scott beach house, and everyone seems to be holding their breath, waiting for the sexual tension to dissipate. She's wearing a skirt, so her legs are already on display, and she bends her left leg at the knee a little bit. He takes her by surprise - he's usually not so bold - and he licks her just above the knee, making everyone laugh and take notice. He shakes some salt onto her leg, never breaking eye contact, and she bites her lip a little bit.

This shouldn't be nearly as sexy as it is.

Nathan pours the tequila and hands it to his brother, and Lucas' tongue on her leg again has the guys making crude comments, and the girls giggling. He does his shot and sucks his lime, and then she swats his chest.

"You're a jerk," she says.

"I'm just playing the game!" he says with a laugh. He leans down to speak into her ear when no one else is paying attention. "Besides. It's your turn now."

If she were keeping track of the amount of times she's thought of ripping his clothes off, that would probably have been about 1,001.

This time, she does something about it. She's pulling his shirt over his head before he really knows what she's doing, and she tells him that she's always loved his chest. She says it only loud enough for him to hear, but everyone else takes note of the amount of whispering going on between the two blondes.

She does her shot, licking his chest like she's 'supposed' to and then she balls Lucas' shirt up and throws it at him.

"Happy?" she asks with a raised brow.

"Oh yeah," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. She shoves him playfully, but he grabs her wrist and pulls her against him so Nathan can walk behind her in the narrow space between where they're standing and the refrigerator.

"I can't drink anymore," she announces. "I'm going to bed."

"We probably should all stop," Haley says. "We're going to be so hungover."

She's right, but kids their age should be hanging out with their best friends and drinking to the point of nausea. Peyton's just glad she's not at that point.

They all go their separate directions, and Peyton steps into the room that was always reserved for she and Brooke, and it feels really big and empty to be in there all by herself. She waits until she can't hear anyone else walking around, and she crosses the hall in the darkness, wearing just her tank top and boy cut underwear, and she pushes open the door to the room Lucas is sleeping in.

"Hi," he says when he notices her there.

"Hi."

Dammit she looks good. The fact that she's half-naked doesn't hurt. He's so in love with her that it's almost painful, and his heart races when she pulls back the sheets and gets into bed with him. He's never slept next to a girl before. It surprises him how naturally it comes. He opens his arm and she lays down with her head on his chest, and he holds her close to him.

Her lips fall to his chest in a way that's somehow innocent, though she's very aware they're both in their underwear.

"You didn't get enough earlier?" he asks teasingly.

"Please," she scoffs. "You practically violated my leg."

"I saw the shiver run down your spine."

"When'd you get so confident?" she asks and he laughs.

"Right around my fourth gin and tonic," he explains, and she buries her face in his chest a little more.

Three words are right there on the tip of her tongue. She wants to say them. But she doesn't want him to be able to chalk it up to her having had too much to drink.

So she says goodnight, and he kisses her hair, and they fall asleep moments later, soothed by alcohol and by each other, and when he wakes up before her, he holds her close so she can't get away.

He doesn't want her to get away.

When she wakes up, they realize everyone else is still asleep, and she suggests they make a break for it before someone notices they've shared a bed. They both know they'll never hear the end of it if someone catches them. He watches her (of course he does) when she stands and rushes across the hall for her clothes. She's so damn sexy that it kills him.

They go for breakfast at the diner at the edge of town, and they laugh for hours over endless cups of coffee. They share memories of the night before like it was years ago, and she raises her eyebrow when she says, "remember the time you licked my leg twice in one night?"

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted me to do it again," he says with a smirk. She blushes and rolls her eyes. "And it wasn't like you were complaining when you ripped my shirt off."

"OK, seriously? You never used to be like this," she says, leaning across the formica table.

He wants to tell her that now that he knows he loves her, it's easy to be confident about it. She knows how he feels so he doesn't have to hide anything.

"Is it a problem?" he asks.

He drops some money onto the table as they stand, and his hand finds the small of her back as she says a soft, "no."

He pulls up to her house, and it's just barely 9:00, and she leans across the seat and kisses his cheek before she says goodbye and hops out. She's acting like they didn't share a bed and spend hours talking and like he doesn't love her. He doesn't think that's a good thing. She's notorious for letting them go one step forward and two steps back. That may be just slightly drastic, but as he flops down on his bed after dropping her off, he wonders if he'll ever not be so in love with her.

He's surprised, just a half hour later, when she walks into his bedroom and claims that she's bored and tired and that she needs him to entertain her or let her sleep next to him. He smiles and opens his arm and she lays down, and she drifts off easily. For the second time in 24 hours, he's awake while she sleeps, and he could really get used to this.

They meet with Nathan and Haley for a late lunch, though Haley really looks like she doesn't want to be anywhere but in bed. They have dinner with Karen at the café, then they go to Peyton's house and climb the stairs to her bedroom. She pulls off her sweater and stands in just a tank top and the jeans he loves, and when she turns around, the way he's looking at her has her feeling completely naked.

"I love you," she says, because she's really just realizing it then, and she can't not say it.

"What?" he asks, though there's a smile on his face and they both know he heard her perfectly clearly.

"I'm in love with you." She takes a step towards him, and her eyes are starting to tear, because this feels like a huge moment. "I don't know why I took so long to realize it. But...Lucas..."

He kisses her, because he's been waiting for their next kiss since the last one, and he wasn't sure it would ever come. He was almost positive he'd never hear her say those words. So he kisses her.

Then end up on her bed like they did the last time they tried all this, and this time she's not getting scared, and it's him who's questioning everything.

But then she reaches for his belt and any coherent thoughts escape him. He finds some places where she evidently loves to be touched and kissed, and she smiles at him when he reaches for the fly of her jeans, as if she's reassuring him that she's not going to freak out.

She's laying beneath him in just her underwear, and she's absolutely perfect, and his jeans are undone. She can tell he's resistant.

"What?" she asks. He can hardly concentrate. Her bare chest is pressed up against his, and his lower half is pressed against hers, and it all feels so good. The last thing he wants to do is talk, but he knows better than to not say anything.

"I'm...this is..."

"Lucas," she says softly, running her hand through his hair. "Just relax."

"I can't," he tells her, smirking at how ridiculous it all is. She's her and he's him and this is his first time, and he feels like someone should pinch him or something.

"It's not like I'm an expert," she reminds him. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, thankful for at least that. "You need to lose the jeans."

"My hands are shaking," he says. She leans up and kisses him, making him moan with the way her body presses against his, and she pushes at the waistband of his jeans and boxers.

"Lucas, it's just me," she says quietly when he hesitates.

"Just you?" he asks incredulously. "I'm...I love you, and this is...big."

There's a sexual comment right on the tip of her tongue, but she knows it'd be inappropriate to speak it, so instead she just shifts her hips against his, and he knows what she was about to say.

She kisses him hard and they're both naked within minutes.

It's all a really wonderful, amazing blur from there. He's so glad he waited to share this with her. She whispers his name perfectly, and she touches him in the most incredible ways. He's pretty sure nothing has ever sounded as good as when she says that she loves him when they're locked together and his lips are on her neck.

He's laying with her afterward, and they're covered up in blankets since she complained of the cold, and she's on her side looking down at him.

"You're all glassy eyed," she points out, smiling at him.

"So are you," he tells her, and she tries to look away. "I like it."

"You _like_ it?" she asks with her brow kinked. "I should hope so."

She knows he was talking about the way her eyes looked and not the amazing experience they just shared, but she feels like bugging him a little bit, and she knows he'll take it.

"You're so sexy," he says, letting his fingertips trace the curve of her collarbone.

"Stop it," she says, turning away from him.

"No." He kisses her bare shoulder, and his hand finds her hip, and they both know she doesn't really want him to stop.

"Hey Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"I meant it, you know," she says, turning in his arms. "I love you."

"Stop saying it," he insists. "Because...I'm waiting for someone to tell me this is all in my head."

She smiles and climbs on top of him, letting the sheets fall around her. She places her hands on his chest and he shakes his head. How in the hell is _he_ the guy who gets her acting like this?

"It's not in your head," she says softly, leaning down to kiss him.

----

She walks to the River Court a couple days before they're set to go back to school, and he's there working out in his sweats, though it's really probably too cold for him to be doing it. She winks as she walks over to the picnic table and sits on top, and she watches him play for a while, sitting there in her jacket and mittens.

They haven't told anyone what's going on. She knows Nathan and Haley definitely suspect something - those two have always suspected as much - and that Karen has questioned their relationship, but they maintain that it's nothing.

Because they aren't sure what it is.

They haven't really talked about it. They've spent any time they have alone making out or making love, and when they're out among friends or family, they act like they're just friends. They are friends. They are not _just_ friends.

She doesn't know what she wants. She doesn't know what he wants. The whole thing still scares her. When she's with him, she's happy and smiling and just in love. When she's alone, she realizes that anything she starts with Lucas (she's in denial, telling herself nothing has started) will be big and all-consuming and something like forever. She really doesn't think she's ready for that. Perhaps she should have thought of that before.

He was right. It does feel good to love him. Which is the one thing that reminds her that she can't lose him. She knows that if she said that to him, he'd tell her that she couldn't lose him and she won't, no matter what. But she doesn't know that, and even if he said all those perfect words, she probably still wouldn't believe him.

What the hell are they going to do?

He comes over and sits next to her after a while, and he doesn't say anything. There are a few inches between them, but his arm crosses over hers behind them. All he wants to do is kiss her. That's all he ever really wants to do.

She looks over at him and smiles, and she pulls a silver Sharpie from her pocket - she's always got one on her somewhere - and he kinks his brow as she smirks and pulls the cap off.

In the space between them, she writes_ I Love You_.

He's not sure how long that silver mark will be there, but he thinks he wants it to be there forever. He leans over, and in a rare display of public affection, he kisses her gently, because he can't not kiss her after that.

"What are we going to do?" he asks.

She just shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head, because she really doesn't know. She knows that this isn't the time or place to have this conversation, and she knows that when and where they do have this conversation, she still won't know what to say.


	3. Chapter 3

"So let me get this straight," Brooke says over the phone. "You love him, he loves you, you've slept together - you took his virginity - and you're _not_ together?" She lets out a laugh and Peyton closes her eyes. "That makes _no_ sense."

"Yes, it does," Peyton insists. "Because...it does."

"Oh. In that case," Brooke says sarcastically.

"It's complicated."

"I really don't think it is," Brooke says. "Honestly. You two are basically perfect for each other, and you finally had that amazing moment where you both admitted that you love each other, and you won't let yourself be happy with him."

"It's really not all that simple," Peyton insists. "It's kind of tragic, I know, but it's...It's just kind of the way we are."

"I don't understand," Brooke repeats. "This is so stupid, Peyton. The guy is in love with you, and you're not hanging onto that for some reason."

"We agreed it's just not the right time. We're both trying to just get through our first year, and..."

"You talk every day. Your schools are like, an hour apart," Brooke interrupts. "I just want you to be happy, and he's always the one who's made you happiest."

"Well, maybe that's the problem, then," Peyton says. She's just realizing it, but it might be true. "Maybe I need to try to find that on my own, or in something else, you know?"

"Not really."

"The decision was mutual."

"I think he lied. There's no way a guy like Lucas Scott says he loves you, gives...something that big to you..." She pauses to giggle upon realizing what she's said. "I mean himself. His...You know what I mean!"

"Yes, Brooke, I get it," Peyton laughs.

"There's no way he doesn't want to be with you. He's probably just scared. Or he's just saying he doesn't want you because you said you don't want to be in a relationship. Or he's giving you space because _you're_ scared."

"Brooke..."

"I think you're breaking his heart. And probably yours a little bit," Brooke insists quietly.

"It's for the best," Peyton says after a moment.

They talk for a while about other things. Things that don't seem - to either girl - to be as big as the saga that is Lucas and Peyton. They talk about the guy Brooke's been seeing since October, Julian, and Peyton's happy for her friend.

She wants that for herself, and she doesn't dare say it, because she knows that Brooke will say she already has it.

She knows she does.

It just still doesn't feel as right as it should.

----

Of all the people she expected to break her heart, Lucas didn't even make the list.

But even still, she's pretty sure it's all her fault. And maybe it's not a broken heart, but more of him taking a piece and running away with it. Maybe that's not so bad.

He's met someone. A girl named Sarah who's apparently fun and smart and cute and clever. He was reluctant to tell Peyton. He didn't tell her until they were talking one day and Sarah was in the background.

The tone of voice Peyton used told him that perhaps he should have said something sooner. She sounded surprised and maybe a little disappointed, and he felt like a prize jerk for not telling her first.

But she's the one who suggested they not be together, and now he can't say that's the worst idea she's ever had. It was actually a pretty good one.

Because the more time he spends with Sarah, the more he starts to think that maybe he didn't love Peyton as much as he thought he did. He's only been dating her a little over a month, and he and Peyton are still on the right track, but Sarah is just different. Good different. He's absolutely crazy about her.

Peyton is in her apartment one day after reading an email from Lucas, telling her all about taking Sarah home to meet Karen and how well it went. Karen evidently loves Sarah.

Peyton is jealous. She feels like she's being replaced. The only thing, she realizes, is that Sarah's occupying a space that Peyton never really did. This new girl gets to be Lucas' girlfriend. Peyton never was; not really.

The door opens behind her and her friend Ryan looks at her like he knows there's something going on. She's listening to David Gray, and he knows she only does that when she's doing heavy thinking.

"What's going on?" Ryan asks, sitting himself down on the sofa.

"Nothing," she lies. "What's up?"

"I'll let that slide because I assume you'll eventually tell me," he says, and she rolls her eyes.

She and Ryan met first semester when they were in the same little music business class. It was the only course on the subject that was offered, and there were only 15 people in the class - the bare minimum for the class to even run. He sat down next to her, and they hit it off immediately.

He's a tall guy with red hair and a beard that's trimmed differently by the week. He's like a big teddy bear, and he's always got some strange theory to test, and she's usually the one telling him they're ridiculous. But she likes hanging out with him because he's so different from...basically everyone.

"Whatever. What up?" she repeats.

"I'm thinking of transferring to Vanderbilt," he says abruptly.

"What!?" she almost shouts, turning to look at him.

"Nashville, baby," he tells her with a smile. "You want to work in the music industry, it's pretty much there or L.A., and L.A. sucks."

"Nashville?"

"It's a good school. Our credits are all easily transferrable," he says.

Wow. She doesn't know what she'll do without this guy. She's kind of gotten used to having him around, and...

Wait.

"Our?" she asks.

"Well, I was just thinking. I mean...I know you're from around here and everything, but...It'd be kind of cool if you came with me or something," he says, far more nonchalantly than he should, given what he's proposing they do.

"You want me to leave Wake Forest?"

"Well, not if you don't want to. It's just an idea, Peyton." He shrugs one shoulder.

She's already considering it, though. She's wondering what's left in North Carolina for her.

"Well, when do we need to get our transfer stuff in? And what even goes into all that?" she asks, shaking her head.

He smiles, because she wouldn't have asked him that if she wasn't already considering it.

He tells her all about it. How the deadline isn't for a couple weeks, and he's got a line on a two bedroom apartment since his cousin lives in Nashville and is graduating school this year and moving back to Florida, where Ryan's from.

She looks up photos of the school online, and Ryan says there's no one he'd rather move away with, and there's a moment there when she thinks that maybe there's a spark between them, and she wonders if it's been there all along.

She doesn't tell Lucas about any of this until well after she's talked to her dad, who thinks she might just thrive at Vanderbilt. She's put in for her transfer, and she's just gotten approved for it. It's mid-May, and she calls Lucas, holding her breath, because she's not sure how he's going to take this.

No one else seemed too thrilled at the thought of her moving out of state. Nathan told her it was (quote) bullshit. Haley was sad, but said, in that reassuring way that's so _Haley_, that whatever made Peyton happy was fine with her. Nathan shouted in the background that it was a stupid decision. She made a note to call him once he'd had time to cool down.

Brooke wondered what was going on that had her running away, but she already knew the answer, and Peyton didn't admit it had anything to do with Lucas anyway.

"Hello," he answers sadly.

Oh God. Has someone already told him?

"Hi," she says. "You alright?"

"Sarah and I broke up," he explains.

"Luke, I'm sorry," she says sympathetically. "Wow. I'm...Sorry."

"She cheated on me. With a pre-med student."

"Lucas..."

"I don't get it, Peyton," he says, exasperated as he lays back on his bed. "I did everything right with her. I mean, I thought I did. And she just...How could she do that?"

She doesn't know what to say. She hates this other girl for a legitimate reason now. She hates that he's going through this, and she hates that if she'd just said she wanted to be with him, maybe he wouldn't have to. She hates that she's blaming herself. She hates that she feels like she might cry, just because he's hurting.

She's really damn confused. Since they decided to leave Wake Forest, she and Ryan have gotten closer and closer, to the point where their flirting has gotten a little out of hand. Out of hand meaning dirty text messages that she wouldn't dare show anyone else, and phrases that she can't even repeat.

And now Lucas is hurting, and she's kind of torn between two boys.

"I don't know," she says honestly. "I'm...I don't know."

"Why aren't more girls like you?" he asks. "You're so...Why aren't they like you?"

She sniffles, because she's full on crying, because he's the sweetest guy ever and now moving further away from him seems like a horrible option.

"Are you crying?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

"I just...hate that you have to deal with that."

"Well, don't cry about it," he says, and she can hear him smiling as she wipes her eyes.

"I'm...I have something to tell you," she admits. "I'm not going to Wake Forest next year."

"You're dropping out?" he asks quickly.

"No. I'm transferring," she explains. "To Vanderbilt."

"What?" he asks after a moment. "You're going out of state? Why? What's...Why?"

"My friend is going, and we decided to go together. Nashville's amazing for music, and I can get my MBA, and it's...just good timing," she says. "Telling you right now probably isn't."

"Well, you're taking my mind off something sucky with something even suckier," he says.

"Luke..."

"Sorry, but...Come on. You can't expect me to like this," he tells her.

And no, she really can't.

"I know," she admits. "I just need your support, okay?"

He sighs on the other end of the line, and she closes her eyes, because she knows he'll support her no matter what, even if he hates what it is she's doing. Which he clearly does.

"If it's what you want, then I'm happy for you. I guess I'm just not happy for me."

"I'm sorry. I should have waited to tell you until..."

"What's a little more heartbreak?" he asks. She doesn't say anything, and he realizes that was kind of a shitty thing to say. "I'm sorry. I don't mean...I don't want to make you feel bad. I just already miss you, and you're going further away now."

She understands, and they spend almost all night on the phone, and they agree to meet in the town between their two schools the next day for lunch. They sit at the little restaurant and talk about everything. His breakup and her move, and he asks all sorts of questions about Ryan. He met the guy once, but he wants to know everything.

He wants to know that Ryan is going to take care of Peyton.

----

She comes home for a couple weeks at the beginning of summer before she moves to Nashville, and as soon as she's in town, she's driving towards Lucas' house. His mom is off traveling the world with her boyfriend, so Lucas is alone.

She really doesn't expect him to kiss her when she steps through the door. She doesn't expect to kiss him back.

It's late at night, because she had to wait for the movers to pick up her things - Ryan's moving into their apartment right away to 'set things up', whatever that means, and she'll drive out after spending time with her dad and her friends.

She notices a glass of whiskey sitting on his night stand, and she can taste the alcohol on his lips, and she wonders how much he's had to drink.

But she can't pull away from him. He's been her weakness for a long time, and as much as she knows - _knows_ - this is a bad idea, she can't stop it from happening.

He murmurs things against her skin that she wants to hear. Things like_ I miss you_ and _You look amazing_ and _I've wanted to kiss you for so long_.

He doesn't say he loves her. She doesn't think that's weird until after, when he's sleeping next to her, and she's feeling like this is last Christmas, all over again. Only now she feels just a little less, and she's sure he does too, and she's going even further away.

They have those two weeks, though, and it's a lot more of the same. Nights in his bedroom and days with friends at the beach or wherever, and they drive that old car of hers with the top down and talk just like they used to.

She doesn't cry when she has to leave, and when they say I love you, it doesn't feel quite so heavy.

He really doesn't know how they can have those perfect times together and still let each other go.

He doesn't know how neither of them ever demands anything more.

----

A month into living with Ryan, and she's starting to question just about everything. They still flirt like mad, and he makes it seem like he's interested, and she doesn't realize that she wants him to be interested until she hears that he's got a date with someone else.

Lucas calls her one night when she's a little unnerved by it all. Ryan's out at some bar with some girl doing God knows what, and it bothers her a hell of a lot more than it should.

But she likes the guy. He's funny and charming and he's just boyish enough to be cute, but just manly enough to make her feel like he's unlike anyone she's really dated. He's a couple years older - he took two years off after high school to roadie for an indie band - and he's seen a bit, and she thinks all of that is just perfect for her.

"What's wrong?" Lucas asks knowingly after a few minutes. She's not her normal self, and he almost thinks it's cute that she thinks he wouldn't notice.

"Nothing."

"I don't buy it. I know that tone. That's the boy problem tone," he tells her.

"How do you know that tone!?"

"I know you," he says simply. He shrugs one shoulder, though she can't see him. "It's Ryan, isn't it?"

"Is it that obvious?" she asks softly. She lays back on her bed and clicks on her stereo.

"I just know you," he says, as though that's the obvious part. "So you like him, huh?"

It kills him to say it, but he's her friend, first and foremost, and she needs to talk, so he'll let her and he'll say all the right things when he's supposed to.

It's weird, he thinks, to be giving relationship advice to the girl he'd always thought he was going to marry. But maybe that's not the case anymore.

"At first I thought it was just that we're living together, and we're in this new city, and we're basically the only people each other really knows, but...It's kind of more than that," she explains. "And I shouldn't be talking to you about it."

"Hey, it's okay," he tells her. "Why are you upset though?"

"Because it's so one sided and stupid! And even if I tell him, it won't matter, and...it sucks."

"Yeah, I know," he says softly. She hears him, though, and she doesn't know what to say. "Sorry. Low blow."

"You could have told me."

"Well, I _did_ tell you," he says, and she laughs.

"Right."

"So why do you think it wouldn't matter?" he asks. He can't imagine any single guy not wanting a girl like her.

"He's gone out with two different girls this week. I'm never on the list. I'm...He's not going to notice me."

"You're on _my_ list," he says softly through the line. "And if he doesn't get it, he doesn't deserve you."

She's on his list. Is there any sweeter thing in the world than that? She doesn't think so.

It's only been a month, and for the first time, she's wishing she never left North Carolina. School hasn't even started yet, and she can't go back, and she wonders if she made a huge mistake.

"How come you're so good to me?" she asks.

"Because I love you," he answers, and it's the truth.

She sighs and closes her eyes and she wishes that they'd been able to get it together. She doesn't know how it's possible to have so much affection for one person, yet be completely crazy about another. She's not even sure who is who anymore. She just knows that she's the really confused girl in the middle of it all.

----

The first time Ryan kisses her, they're watching I Heart Huckabees. It's close to 3:00 in the morning, and she's half asleep with her head on his thigh. The lights are out and he's idly running his hand through her hair. She laughs at something Mark Whalberg's character says, and Ryan smiles down at her. She turns to look up at him, and he brushes her cheek with his index finger. He's never done something quite so intimate, and she gets butterflies in her stomach.

She's missed that feeling. Only one other person has ever given her that feeling.

"You know how gorgeous you are?" he asks out of nowhere. Save for their ridiculous flirtation and endless innuendo, he's never said anything like that. And it's very different right now.

"Ryan," she says softly.

She wonders if this is really happening. She's wanted it to happen for so long, and now that he's actually saying these words, she's not sure if she should believe them.

"You are. You're...so sexy," he says. She looks at him in confusion, and he's rolling his eyes. "Come on. It's not like I've made it a secret."

"I guess I just thought...I don't know what I thought," she says.

She's suddenly very aware of the position of her face on his lap, and it seems he notices at the same moment. He raises his brow and smirks at her, and she rolls her eyes and sits up. He drapes his arm over the back of the sofa so he's kind of open to her, and she doesn't know how he's so confident about all this. She wonders if he knows it's a sure thing.

She wonders when it became one.

"I've wanted you for...basically ever."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks.

"I have," he says. "You thought I was joking. It killed me."

"You told me you wanted to put your face between my thighs," she says with far more confidence than maybe she should. "I didn't think you meant it."

"Well I do," he says seriously.

"So you want to...What do you want?" she asks, and he places his hand on her leg, his fingertips brushing the seam on the inside of her thigh. She gets a feeling in her stomach that's very, very different from butterflies, and she takes a deep breath.

"I kind of just want you."

"But...in what ways?" She needs to know. She needs to know if he just wants to sleep with her, and that's it, because she's been there before and if she can avoid it, she will. "Because if you just want sex, then..."

"No," he says. "You're too...We live together. I wouldn't do that."

"So you want to be...what?" she asks. "Because I've been in something before when I didn't know what it was, and I can't do that again."

He doesn't know about her history with Lucas. Up until now, it really hasn't had anything to do with him, and she didn't feel that it was pertinent information to share. She knows they'll have that conversation eventually. Well, she thinks they'll probably get to that point.

And yet even as she's said those words, she thinks that she did know what it was, and she would do it again in a heartbeat. But only with Lucas, because she knows he'd be worth it. Whatever he could give, she'd take. That can't be healthy.

"You're too amazing for me not to want to be with you," he tells her. She smiles. She believes him for some reason. "And I really, really want to kiss you crazy right now."

She laughs now, because who the hell says that kind of thing? And how the hell did he make that sound so sweet?

He kisses her, and she wants him to, and she lets herself relax, though she's kind of freaking out a little bit. The last person she kissed is the only person she's kissed in the last two years, and she's not sure why she's taking that moment to think of Lucas. The truth of the matter is, she thinks about him so often that it's kind of just routine.

They end up wrapped up in one another, sitting there on the sofa, and she's got her hand on his thigh, and when he places his over hers and moves it a little further up, she pulls away a little. She merely shakes her head to let him know that's not where things are going tonight, and he nods in understanding, though she can tell that might not exactly be thrilled about it.

"What is it?" he asks between kisses he's pressing to, well, everywhere.

"Nothing. I just don't want to tonight," she says, pulling away from him. "I don't want to rush it."

"Okay," he says.

He tries to kiss her again, but she stands from the sofa and smiles at him as she takes his hand. She leads him to his bedroom, not hers, for a reason she's not sure of, and they lay down together. She curls into his embrace, and he pulls her close, but she can tell he's tense. She doesn't say anything though, because she's not sure what to say. She's wanted this for a while, and she wants him, but given her sexual past, she doesn't think sleeping with him not even an hour after they confessed they want each other is the best idea.

"Don't you think _this_ is intimate?" he asks.

"Of course," she says softly.

"Is it...me? Did I do something?"

"No," she almost whispers. She's not sure when he got so insecure. This really isn't like him.

"Okay," he says. "I just really want you. I'm really...I want you."

She just leans up and kisses him gently, because she wants him to stop talking. These things he's saying are sweet, but she doesn't want him to keep saying them, for some reason. She doesn't want him to think she doesn't want him or she isn't attracted to him, and never before has she had to explain why she didn't want to have sex. Maybe because she's only really had sex with Lucas (Thomas is a distant memory), and she can never remember _not_ wanting Lucas.

They fall asleep in their clothes on his bed, and when she wakes up in the morning, he's not there. He's got an early class, and she knows that, and when she walks out into the kitchen, there's a bouquet of daisies there on the counter, with a note that says that he can't wait to see her later, and he'll text her between classes. It's signed just _'R'_, and she smiles.

She comes home later that day and the two of them have a conversation about what they really want to be, and he tells her all sorts of moments they've had together that made him want to be with her, and she blushes every time. He kisses her and calls her adorable, and she holds his hand while they watch television.

She and Lucas have been drifting apart just a little bit since she moved. At first it was alright. She'd still call him, and he'd call her, and they'd talk till all hours. But as school got busier and she started spending more and more time with Ryan, things started changing a little bit. Their calls became weekly instead of daily, and at first they made excuses, but now it's just the way it is. They each understand.

But she's terrified to tell him that she and Ryan are now a couple.

She goes home for a weekend in October, just a few weeks after she and Ryan got together. Her dad is in town, and she ditches her Friday classes to take a long weekend. She flies in to Tree Hill on Thursday night and has dinner with her dad in the house she grew up in.

And then she goes to see Lucas, who came home for the weekend to see her, just like he had said he would when she told him she was going to visit. She loves him for that. She misses him. She misses talking to him.

They meet at the River Court, and when he hugs her, she closes her eyes to relish the feeling of being in his arms. She didn't realize how much she missed him. _Misses_ him.

"You look great," he tells her. "Like...so great."

"Thanks. You too," she says, pulling away from him.

"_God_, you look good," he says again, running his hand through her hair as he smiles at her. "How are you?"

"Good!" she says as they sit down on the picnic table. She can see those three silver words still written there, and she wonders how it's possible. That's some pretty permanent ink.

And she feels guilty for still meaning those words when she's with someone else. She feels even more guilty for being with someone else when she still means those words.

"I'm good," she continues. "School is busy, but it's good. And you know...Ryan..."

"How's that all going?" he asks sincerely.

"We're...we're dating or whatever," she tells him, and he just nods. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't look at him. "It's kind of new, but it's...it's good."

"That's good," he says, for lack of something else to say. "He makes you happy, so...that's good."

She really doesn't know how he got so strong. He's willing to put his own feelings for her aside if someone else can make her happy. She's almost certain she wouldn't be able to do the same thing for him.

Sitting there with Lucas, she's not sure why she never really dated him. She's not sure why she ever left North Carolina.

And she's not sure why she thinks she and Lucas will never really get it together, and why she thinks they'll never really be over one another either.

----

Ryan decides that he doesn't want to be with Peyton anymore. He doesn't tell her so until he's made a date with another girl.

Peyton, trying to look on the bright side of things, tells herself that it's not so bad because she never loved Ryan anyway.

But it still hurts. Because she was falling hard and fast. As much as she tells herself she never loved him, a _part_ of her did. It's that same part that doesn't want to admit it, and it's the same part that hurts so much.

What hurts the most is that they're locked into their lease until the beginning of June, and she has to live with Ryan until she can leave. And even then, she doesn't know where she's going to go.

It sucks.

What sucks even more is that she and Lucas haven't talked in a couple weeks, and she's not sure if she wants to talk to him. He told her not too long ago, after Ryan went out one evening and didn't turn up for a day and a half, that he had a weird feeling about the guy. She hadn't appreciated that much. She didn't like Lucas judging a guy he'd only met once, in passing, and she said he was jealous, and she realizes now that she was overly harsh and awful and that he was just looking out for her. Jealousy wasn't even a factor.

She calls him, and she tries not to cry when she tells him that she's sorry for the way she acted. It's the first thing she says, and he can tell there's something going on with her.

"What's wrong?" he asks knowingly.

"Nothing."

"Peyton," he says, because they both know he knows her well enough to be able to know that there's something wrong.

"Ryan and I broke up," she admits.

"What? Why?"

"Because he found someone else he wants to date more than me," she tells him.

"Fuck," he whispers. "I'm sorry."

She has to hold back her tears because Ryan hasn't once apologized since he told her about this other girl. A girl he insists he didn't fool around with while he and Peyton were together. Peyton doesn't really buy that.

"It's not your fault," she says, trying to laugh.

But she thinks, somehow, that it might be. If only they'd been smarter about it all, maybe they'd be together. If maybe they had had a couple more conversations and been a little more mature about it all, they could have avoided his failed relationship and her failed relationship and maybe they could have been happy together.

"Still," he says. "I just...What are you gonna do?"

"What can I do?" she asks. "We have to live together until the end of the school year, and then what? What's here for me? God Lucas, I basically followed him here, and I hardly know anyone, and...I just miss home. And...I miss everything."

"So come back. Transfer back here. Or...I don't know," he says. "I don't know what to say."

The way he says it has her thinking that he's just this side of begging her to move back to North Carolina, no matter what, and when she asks her next question, she basically already knows the answer. He's basically already given it.

"Do you miss me?" she asks after a moment.

"Of course I do," he says softly. "All the time. And I hate that I said that about him, and made you mad..."

"No. You were right. That was...You were right," she admits. "I'm sorry I got so upset."

"You had every right to," he tells her. "I shouldn't have said that. I just miss...I dunno."

"What?" she asks encouragingly.

"I guess sometimes I miss...being...whatever we were."

"Lucas..."

She's missed it all. She just didn't know it. Not until now, when she has him on the phone and he's telling her all this and making her feel better from miles and miles away than Ryan ever did when she was in his arms. She doesn't know when she got so stupid. She should know better than to try with anyone else. Ryan was just like Thomas, and she should have seen it. She should be smarter.

She should know that no one will ever treat her like Lucas does.

Suddenly, that feels like it's enough for her. Maybe it always was.

"Being with you just reminds me of how amazing you are," he says softly, shaking his head like it's just all that simple and all that complicated. "That weekend you were home, and you told me you were with him...That sucked for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's...It's your life. I just guess..."

"You wanted to be a part of it," she offers.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I always have. And it's weird without you here."

It's weird to not be there, she realizes. To not be within an hour of him and talk to him every day.

It's really weird to not feel like she's the most important thing in his life, as selfish as that might be.

"I think moving was a mistake," she says, admitting it out loud for the first time. "But I have to stay here until June."

"That's...That's a long time to figure it out," he reminds her.

"Exactly!" she cries. "I have to _live_ with my _ex_, Lucas! How am I supposed to do this?"

"You've always been stronger than you give yourself credit for," he says. "You can get through this, Peyton, and you'll be alright."

She thanks him for being so good to her, and he tells her that he'll always be good to her. They talk a while longer before she says she has to study. She doesn't have to study. She has to cry a little bit and tell herself that she's a moron for never just letting herself be happy with the one boy who's always made her happy.

He's left sitting in his bedroom wondering how in the world he's going to ever get over her.

For some reason, for the first time, he feels like he _needs_ to. Because never once in that conversation did _she_ say she missed _him_.

----

Peyton withdraws a bit. To be honest, she falls into a little bit of depression. She starts to hate Nashville and Ryan and Vanderbilt and the fact that she has to deal with all those things on a daily basis. She feels like she's just going through the motions, counting down until June.

What's happening in June? She still doesn't know. Her father insists she should stay in Nashville and finish out her schooling, and then decide what she wants to do. But she knows what she wants, and staying in Nashville isn't it. That's all she knows. She doesn't have a clue what she's going to do. She's talked to Wake Forest, and their programs are full for their fall semesters, and the woman one the phone at UNC basically laughs at her for calling and asking about programs there.

She's screwed. She's trapped in this life she thought she'd love, and she hates every second of it.

Ryan doesn't care, she's certain. They rarely ever talk, and only see each other when necessary, and he doesn't treat her very well anymore, and she kind of hates him. She really does. He's turned into a slob, and his new girlfriend is always around, and he's got absolutely no regard for Peyton's feelings.

The night she hears them having sex in the bathroom is the night she grabs her keys and takes a scenic tour of Tennessee back roads for hours and hours, listening to music and trying not to cry over what her life has become.

She talks to Brooke pretty regularly, and Haley every so often, but Lucas has been withdrawing, and it scares her a little, but she doesn't question it. She's done the same thing before, and it breaks her heart to know exactly why he's doing it. He's trying to pull away because he doesn't want to want her anymore.

She eventually stops trying to call. That just makes her feel more and more alone. If she doesn't have Lucas, what does she have? _Who_ does she have?

----

Haley walks into Lucas' townhouse one day early in April. Their schools are close enough together that their friendship has actually gotten stronger, though they didn't think it possible. They do a ton of things together, and they went to all of Nathan's home games and sat in the stands, and Lucas pretended to cheer for Duke, though he's really a UNC fan. Of course he is.

He's sitting at his counter with his laptop in front of him and various books scattered around. He's busy, she can tell, but this can't wait.

"Have you talked to Peyton lately?" she asks bluntly.

"No. Why?"

She almost wants to yell at him for being so nonchalant.

"I'm worried about her," she tells him.

"Why?" he asks, suddenly very interested. Haley smirks and rolls her eyes.

"She seems...sad. And I just think she's really unhappy right now," she says softly.

"Well...I don't know what you want me to do," he says, shrugging his shoulder and trying to make it seem like he doesn't care as much as he does. Because he so obviously does.

"Why don't you _call_ her?" she suggests. He shakes his head and looks to the floor. "Lucas, she could probably use a friend right now."

"I'm not her friend," he says.

And he believes it. It's true. They've never really been friends. Even when they weren't kissing or talking about kissing, he always wanted more. He'd call her his friend, and he'd pretend it was true, but it really wasn't.

"Luke..."

"Look, we haven't talked in a while. If I call her now, she's going to know that I'm just doing it because someone told me to."

"Well you ever think that she might just want to talk to you?" she says softly. "I'm scared for her."

"Well...you don't think she's going to do something stupid," he says, turning towards her a little more. "Right?"

"No. I mean...No. She's Peyton. She's too stubborn for that," Haley says, and they both laugh, knowing that's really quite true. "I just hate that she sounds so dejected all the time."

He sighs and tips his head back. He misses her. He misses everything about her.

But he's seeing someone new, and he knows that telling her so would only hurt her more. He knows how it feels to have her tell him that, so he's sure she'd feel something similar. He doesn't want her to feel that. He knows it could be avoided if he just wasn't seeing someone else.

"I'll email her," he finally says. "That's all I can do, Haley. It's..."

"Too hard because you two have this big history, and you aren't sure you want to hear her voice?"

"No. I mean, I do want to, but...I can't," he says simply. "I just can't."

Haley knows what he can't. He may not know it, but he's still in love with Peyton, and he's trying not to be, but it's not working out. She thinks he knows that if he hears Peyton's voice, he's going to be reminded of all those reasons why he was ever in love with her in the first place.

After Haley's left, he pulls open his email, and he clicks on her name, and he types out a couple paragraphs about what's been going on - leaving out those details he doesn't want her to know - and he asks if she's alright, and he actually feels strange once he's hit send. He can't really remember the last time he felt weird talking to her. Maybe never. He doesn't know when everything changed.

He's pretty sure it's all his fault though.

They trade a few emails after that, and she calls him on his birthday, but it feels a little forced, and he tries not to question it. That connection - that natural banter and conversation they've always had - has dissipated, and he tells himself it's just that they're growing up, and maybe they don't need each other like they once did.

He pretends that doesn't break his heart just a little bit.

----

She's living in her hometown again, and she's a college dropout, and she has somehow managed to lose both her best friends. Brooke to L.A., and Lucas to a stupid, tragic relationship that really isn't stupid or tragic at all, they've just made it seem like it is.

And she still talks to Brooke, at least. She doesn't even know if she can call Lucas her friend anymore. They've just sent a few emails back and forth, and that doesn't really mean much to her. Well, that's a huge lie. It means everything. Every time she sees his name in her inbox, she smiles a little wider. And there's not a whole lot that can make her smile these days.

Haley and Nathan are back in town, and they invite her to the River Court one day, insisting that they've missed her far too much and that they just need to see her.

Nathan works for a while after a conversation, and Haley and Peyton sit atop the picnic table in their jeans and tee shirts and talk and laugh about the things they've missed in the time they've been apart. Haley assures Peyton that everything'll work out, and Peyton actually believes that for the first time.

But then Haley smiles and traces over three silver words written atop the picnic table, and Peyton's heart wrenches in her chest.

"I always wondered who wrote this," Haley says cluelessly. "It seems really sweet. Like, you wonder what made someone do it."

All Peyton can think is that it was written in a moment she desperately wants back.

She'd change everything that came after it.

"I wrote it," she says, before she can stop herself. Haley closes her eyes and sighs. She should have known.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. You and Luke?" Haley says softly.

"Yeah," Peyton sighs. "Pretty childish, huh?"

"I think it's nice," Haley says.

They both know there's a hell of a lot more to those four words than Haley's really saying. It's her way of telling Peyton that whatever happened wasn't a mistake and she shouldn't regret it.

That maybe Lucas doesn't either.

"I guess," Peyton says quietly.

Haley drapes her arm around Peyton's shoulder, and they lean into each other a little bit more. They start yelling at Nathan about form and technique, and he laughs and scowls at them, then he's challenging them to a game of two on one and they're accepting like they might actually have a shot at beating him.

For a moment, Peyton forgets that it used to be two on two, and it was Nathan and Haley against Lucas and Peyton.

She's walking home afterwards, and she can't help but wonder if it'll ever be _Lucas and Peyton_ again.

----

He knows she's home. Everyone's told him, and he saw her once when he was getting coffee and she was walking on the other side of the street. She went to see his mom, and she's been hanging out with Nathan and Haley, and Skills said the two of them grabbed lunch one day.

And they all say she's not the girl she used to be. Lucas doesn't know if that's good or bad. It's good because then maybe he won't love this version of her.

It's bad for the very same reason.

The girl he was in love with was amazing and perfect and he never wanted to ever let her go. But he did, somewhere along the way, and he's naive enough to think that if she's changed, it won't still feel like fire when he touches her, or he won't smile every time she does, or he won't just turn into that same 17-year-old boy when he sees her.

Loving her was always easy. Being without her was the hard part.

He doesn't love her anymore. So why is being without her still damn near impossible?

----

The first time she sees Lucas, he's walking down the street, smiling and laughing with a petite blonde girl with a funky bob haircut and a bright smile, and blue eyes she can see from a block away. Her breath catches in her throat at how amazing Lucas looks, and then she almost cries.

He never told her he was seeing someone.

She's about to turn and walk away without the awkward confrontation she knows is about to happen, but he notices her there, and she sees him send her a half a smile, and she can't avoid him. She doesn't really want to. She wants to ignore the little blonde at his side, though.

She stands in front of the couple nervously when they meet on the sidewalk, and Lucas lets go of the girl's hand long enough to pull Peyton into a half-hearted hug, and she hugs him back just as half-heartedly, though it absolutely kills her to do it.

"How are you?" he asks once he's taken the other girl's hand again.

Peyton's not sure if he's trying to hurt her, or if it's just something that's happening.

"Um...I'm alright, you know? Just...Trying to deal," she says with a shrug.

"Yeah," he says softly.

"What about you?" she asks. Her eyes glance to the blonde who appears to be clueless to the tension surrounding them.

"Oh, sorry! This is Miranda," he says, looking over at the blonde whose hand he's holding.

"Hi," Peyton says, shaking Miranda's hand. "Peyton."

"Nice to meet you," the girl says.

Peyton glances at Lucas. It's clear he hasn't told his new girl about he and Peyton's relationship. He gives her a shy look and an almost smile and she mentions something about having to go. She's walking away, and Lucas is watching her go, and he doesn't know why he's so damned worried about her.

Well, he does. He just can't admit it when another girl's hand is tucked into his.

----

She doesn't see him again until a few days later. Mostly because she's spent the majority of that time in her house alone, listening to music and trying to believe all those things everyone's been telling her. It'll be alright, and she'll figure it all out, and it's okay that she's taking time off _to_ figure it all out.

By the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, she decides she needs sun and coffee, so she showers and pulls on a pair of denim shorts and a black tee shirt. She pulls her hair into a messy knot and applies a little mascara and some lip balm. She checks herself in the mirror out of habit, but not because she really cares what she looks like.

She walks through town, figuring she could use the exercise after spending her time watching mindless television in the comfort of her air conditioned house. She makes her way along the River Walk, glancing at that old court across the river. She doesn't know who she expects to see or who she wants to see, but there's no one there, and she doesn't really have a reaction for that. She just keeps walking.

But the coffee shop that was always her favourite has turned into some sort of beach apparel store, and she stands there on the sidewalk, staring at the window display for a few minutes until she notices someone walking towards her out of the corner of her eye.

And that's when she loses it a little bit. Her throat gets tight, and her eyes start to water, and the only good thing about any of it is that he's alone.

"Hey," he says tentatively, confused by her rare public display of emotion.

"It's gone," she says, not looking at him. "It was my favourite place, and it's gone. It's all...changed and different. It's a stupid bathing suit store."

"Yeah," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say to her. He knows it was her favourite coffee shop. He didn't think she'd cry about it.

"The last time I went there, I had a stupid muffin. I didn't even get a coffee!" she says, finally turning to him with tears on her cheeks. "Their coffee was always the best. And now it's too late."

There are a hell of a lot of meanings in those simple words, and he thinks he's the only one who might ever understand. She's not talking about the coffee shop anymore. That's not what she's crying over, and it's not what has her angrily wiping her cheeks. He can tell she's embarrassed by the way she turns away from him. She never used to be embarrassed around him before.

"Peyton," he says, reaching for her wrist.

"No," she says, shaking her head and pulling her hand from his. "I'm sorry. I'm a disaster. I'm sorry. I'm just some crazy girl crying on the street. You probably don't want to be seen with me."

"Yeah, I do," he tells her, smiling just a little bit in that way that she always used to say annoyed the hell out of her, but in a good way. "Come on. How do you feel about ice cream?"

"You have to ask?" she says with a laugh, because he knows how she feels about ice cream and it's crazy that he'd even ask her something like that.

They start walking and they're quiet, and she has no idea what to say to him, other than she hates his girlfriend and she wishes he hated her too. It's silly and childish, and she wouldn't dare say it, but it's all she can think about and she's afraid that if she opens her mouth, that's what'll come out. So she says nothing.

"Meltdown over?" he asks, elbowing her gently, teasing her like he used to, though they're both very aware that nothing is like it used to be, really.

"Not hardly," she mumbles. "I'm sorry. We don't have to...You should be with your girlfriend or something, shouldn't you?"

She's bitter, and he wants her to be. It's selfish and awful, but he can't help it. He doesn't want her to be quite so upset about everything that's going on, but his ego doesn't hate that there's a part of her (maybe a big part) that wants him.

He has no idea what to do about it.

"She lives in Durham," he says. It's all he can think of.

"Oh." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks to the ground as she asks her next question, because she doesn't really want to know, but she wants to be polite. "How'd you meet?"

"She cheers for Duke," he explains.

Of course she does, Peyton thinks. It takes everything in her not to roll her eyes. Sure, she used to be a cheerleader, but that feels like ages ago, and she should have known, at first glance, that _Miranda_ (and she even _thinks_ the name with disdain) is a cheerleader.

"I met her after one of Nathan's games," he continues. "She's really a sweetheart."

"That's good," she says quietly. She's positive he'll know she doesn't mean the words. "How long have you been with her?"

She can't even say the word _together_, and she doesn't know why that is. Maybe it's because she's the only one she wants him to be _together_ with.

"March," he tells her.

They walk a little bit in silence, and she's got her arms wrapped around herself because if she does that then it keeps her from reaching out and grabbing him, telling him that he's crazy and that he shouldn't be over her because she doesn't want him to be. She knows it's not that simple, and she knows that if she does it, she'll just make a bigger fool of herself.

"Ryan's moving in with her," she says after a while. Lucas stops walking and looks at her in confusion. "Vanessa. Who, by the way, he _did_ cheat on me with."

"Peyton..." He's shaking his head. He wonders if people will ever stop hurting her.

He nearly collapses when he realizes he's one of the ones hurting her most.

"Yeah, so that's kind of sucked," she says, starting to walk again because she can't handle the look of sympathy or empathy or pity (whatever it is) in his eyes.

"Tough year, huh?" he says needlessly. She just looks over at him and purses her lips as she nods. "Are you alright?"

"Clearly," she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes because _no_, she's _not_ alright. She hates him for even asking.

"Talk to me, Peyton," he prods, taking that tone that has always been so encouraging and so infuriating, because he knows she'll talk, and he knows she can't hide anything. They both know he'll look at her like that, all blue eyes and shadow of a smirk, until she tells him everything.

"What do you want me to say?" she asks. "I practically gave up my life for someone who gave me up pretty quickly."

He doesn't know if she's talking about him, or Ryan.

She doesn't either. Probably both, though.

Except he doesn't think she ever really gave anything up for him.

Unless she's talking about now. She is, he realizes, and he feels awful instantly. She gave it all up, not that it was much, apparently, and came back for him. He's moved on, and she thinks he's given her up. Maybe he has. Maybe he hasn't. Suddenly, he really and truly doesn't know. The last time he was this confused, he ended up practically cutting her out of his life.

He's realizing very quickly that was a big, big mistake.

"Home's good, though, right?" he asks. "I mean, other than the coffee shop closing down." He's teasing her a little, and she smiles, because she's _missed_ this. "And besides, I know this little café that makes a great cup of coffee."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, rolling her eyes.

He bumps her shoulder with his as they walk, and she's found her smile again. It's sudden and it almost feels strange, because she's got a smile she only has with him, and it's been forever since she used it.

He buys a double scoop of triple chocolate for her - it was always her favourite - and some plain vanilla for him, and they switch halfway through, just like they always did. She asks him if his girlfriend would ever do this with him, and it's not an accusation, and he tells her that Miranda doesn't like ice cream. She looks at him like that's the most absurd thing she's ever heard in her life, and he just shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. He's always thought that a little weird, too.

She eyes the last bit of chocolate after she's finished the last of his vanilla, and it's an innocent look that has him laughing and throwing his arm around her shoulder as he hands over the little dish. She smiles as a thank you, and he doesn't ask for much more. That smile has always been enough.

"This is nice," he says as they walk down Main Street with his arm still around her.

"Kind of makes you wonder why we hardly spoke for months," she says, just a trace of bitterness lingering, though she'll be the first to admit that she loves that she has him back, at least a little; at least in some ways.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That was...I..."

"It's fine. I know."

He purses his lips and nods, because she does know, and he can tell. He hates that she has to know. That she has thought of cutting him out, too, and that he's that transparent, and that no one else has understood that but her. No one.

He walks her home just before dinner, and they're laughing together as they walk up the steps to her house, and she toys with her keys a little bit, because she doesn't want him to go, but she knows he won't stay, even if she asks him to.

"Thanks, Luke," she says sincerely.

"Yeah. This was...This was a lot of fun," he says simply. She nods again and turns the key in the lock, and she turns to him as she pushes the door open.

"It's good to be home," she says, locking eyes with him.

She means that it's good to be around him again, and he knows that. He sees it right there in her eyes. He smiles and winks at her, and then he starts to walk away.

"Hey, Peyton?" he says once he's at the bottom of the porch steps. She turns to look at him questioningly. "Maybe it's not too late."

He's not talking about the coffee shop, just like she wasn't talking about the coffee shop, and she wants to scream because he shouldn't say that when he has his perky, perfect cheerleader girlfriend.

And he shouldn't be saying it if he knows she wants to hear it. He's making promises she's not sure he can keep; giving her hope instead of telling her to give up.

----

His parting words from the last time they spoke have given her an idea, and she loves and hates that she has him to thank for it.

She draws up a business plan; two years at two of the best schools on their side of the country have left her capable of at least that. It's ambitious, to say the least, but she thinks it's just crazy enough to be perfect. She talks to Karen, who smiles and tells her it's brilliant, but jokingly says she won't love the competition. She talks to Deb who echoes that sentiment. She talks to the bank and is approved for some small business loans, and she talks to a realtor, and she finds the perfect little space.

It's got one exposed brick wall and a black and white tile floor, and it needs a lot of work. It used to be a kitchen and bath store, and it's not quite equipped, but she can make it work - she's already been approved for all the permits she needs. It's near the River Walk, just a few minutes from the main business area in Tree Hill, and there's a book store next door and a little candy shop on the other side.

And now, between those two little shops will be Peyton's coffee shop, art gallery, and open mic venue.

"Well, well," Lucas says, stepping into the building one day when she's a disaster.

Her hair is pulled up messily, and her jeans are covered in dust and dirt and paint, and the shirt she's wearing - a button down that was his, once upon a time - has seen better days. She's got the bottom few buttons undone and it's tied at her waist to show her midriff, and the sleeves are rolled up to the elbows.

"Hey," she laughs, setting down the belt sander she was wielding.

"This place is seriously cool, Peyton," he says, looking around.

"Oh God. Maybe in a few weeks," she says, following his gaze. "Right now it's just a dirty, empty room."

He eyes her again as she wipes the sweat from her brow, and he notices a streak of black paint on the bare skin of her stomach. He reaches out and touches it, for some reason, and they both laugh when their eyes lock. She always used to end up with paint in the most random places, and it was always him pointing it out.

"You need help with anything?" he asks seriously. "Because I've got a few hours."

He shrugs his shoulder like it's not a big deal, but it's a huge one. This is her life, and her 'dream', and he's offering to help her get it all off the ground. It's big.

"Um...sure," she says, smiling at him. "See all these tables?"

"Uh huh," he laughs. The room is practically full of them.

"Well, I have to sand them all down so I can paint them," she tells him.

There are no less than a dozen tables, and they're all different shapes and sizes, and he thinks it's seriously cool that she didn't just buy a bunch of uniform furniture. He notices a ton of mismatched chairs, all painted black, sitting at the back of the room. She's so cool. He loves this about her.

"I'm your man," he says before really thinking, and she turns around to clench her teeth. When she turns back to him, she hands him a sander, and the two of them get to work.

They spend the next couple hours together, hardly talking, wearing safety goggles and masks over their mouths so they don't inhale anything they shouldn't, and by the end of it, they're both laughing at how covered in dust they are. His hair is practically white, and his black shirt isn't black anymore. She laughs when he stands and tries to brush it off. He pulls his shirt over his head and shakes it out, and she has to reach for her water so she doesn't focus on the body that's even more perfect than she always thought it was.

Her phone rings, and she's thankful for another distraction. Lucas listens in, watching as she unties her hair and shakes it a little bit, letting her blonde locks tease him like when they were kids and he was wondering how it'd feel to wrap his finger around one of those curls. It's not the same colour it used to be, and it's not as curly as it used to be, but it suits her somehow. He thinks anything would.

"Hey Steph...Yeah, I'm home...Well, Tree Hill...I'm starting my own business...Yeah. Thanks. I'm excited." She turns to Lucas and he has his shirt on again, and he's smiling. "Oh. Really?...That's...Wow...No, I guess it's not that surprising...Right, well thanks for telling me...Sure...Talk soon."

She hangs up the phone, and it's all she can do not to throw it across the room. She runs her hands through her hair and turns away from him, wiping her eye though she knows he'll see.

"What is it?" he asks softly.

"They're engaged," she says. "Ryan and Vanessa."

Lucas clenches his fist. Long after she broke up with that idiot, he's still managing to hurt her a hell of a lot.

"Hey," he says when he sees another tear fall. He steps towards her, but she holds up her hands and backs away from him. "Peyton..."

"No. It's fine. I'm fine. It's...water under the bridge."

He doesn't believe the smile she's trying to fake, though, and he just has to ask.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

Her eyes meet his again, and she just shrugs her shoulders as if to tell him that yes, she did. Or at least she thought she did. She takes a deep breath and wipes her face and says, "what's a little more heart break?"

It's a cheap shot, and they both know it, but they both know he won't say anything about it. He's said the same words to her, and she's definitely got every right to say them now.

"You gonna be okay?" he asks gently.

"I'll be fine. I always am." He smiles at her, because she's been so strong and so amazing, and if he was her, he'd probably have a nervous breakdown.

So when he finds her at Tric that night with a few empty shot glasses in front of her, her red tee shirt standing out in the crowd, he heaves a sigh and shakes his head.

He's just stopped by for a beer before heading home, and Skills was supposed to meet him, but Bevin had some sort of car trouble, so he'd had to cancel. Lucas thought of not going to Tric at all, but he couldn't stop thinking about how sad Peyton had looked that afternoon, and he thought a beer might help clear his mind.

Apparently, he picked the wrong place.

"Is this what you call fine?" he asks, taking the seat next to hers. Her eyes are a little glassy, and it reminds him of those amazing moments he got to share with her in her bedroom or his bedroom during those stolen weeks here or there.

That feels like a lifetime ago.

"Talk to me when your ex gets married," she says coldly, tipping back her beer.

All he can think is the only ex he'd care about getting married is her, and he doesn't know if he can even call her an ex.

If she's being honest, Ryan's engagement only had her head spinning, off and thinking of ridiculous situations and scenarios, and all of them centered around Lucas.

Because Lucas could get married next. It's not inconceivable. And she can't even bear the thought of their story being over. She really hopes it isn't.

But it might be.

"You know? You're kind of scaring me," he tells her.

"Whatever."

"I'm serious," he says, turning to her and forcing her to look at him. "This doesn't really seem like you."

"Well, you don't really know me anymore, do you?" she says, and she's right, and they both know it. "You don't have to sit here."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," she admits quietly. "But I don't want you judging me either."

He lets out a soft laugh and nods his head in understanding, and he tells the bartender to pour them each two shots of tequila.

"Stay away from my legs," she teases, eying him with a raised brow.

"Try not to rip my shirt off," he retorts as he clinks his shot glass against hers.

And it's a struggle, but she manages it.

After their two shots - combined with the four she had before he showed up - she tells him that she can't drink anymore, but she sips a glass of water while he drinks his beer, and they talk about her new business and her any artists she has lined up to display on the walls. He doesn't question her when she smiles and looks down at the bar and says that she has someone lined up. He knows she means she'll display her own art, and she's just too humble to say so.

She gets up to go to the washroom, and she can actually feel his eyes on her as she walks away. She's just in runners, jeans and a plain tee shirt, and her hair is in a ponytail, and she doesn't really care. He always said he loved her looking so simple. She wonders if he still feels the same way.

Or if now he just feels that way about _Miranda_.

The entire time she's in the washroom, her head is buzzing - she got a lot drunker when she stood up - and she's thinking that Miranda is a stupid name and a stupid girl and Lucas should be with a girl named Peyton who's actually pretty smart. None of it makes any sense, because it's not important how intelligent she is. She just wants to know she's better than that other girl. And right now, she feels a million times worse than everyone.

She walks back to the bar and she doesn't sit down. She stands right next to him and he looks at her, unnerved, and then he gets a little scared, because he's seen that look in her eye before, and it's usually not favourable for whoever it's directed at. It appears it's directed at him.

And he'd thought they were doing so well.

"You ever notice how no one keeps their word anymore?" she states more than questions.

"Uh..."

"I'm serious. No one ever means what they say. I bet they'll end up divorced in a year. If that. Maybe they won't even make it to the altar," she says.

"I don't...Maybe?" he agrees, just because he's afraid not to agree.

"No one ever keeps their word anymore," she says softly, hopping back up onto her barstool.

"I think some people do."

"You're naive," she bites back. "They don't."

"You don't keep your word?" he asks with a raised brow. He's had just enough alcohol that arguing with her seems like a good idea.

Experience has taught him that arguing with her is never a good idea.

"_I_ do," she insists. "No one else does."

"Hmm." _Compelling, Lucas_, he thinks.

He wonders where all this is coming from. He wonders if maybe Ryan had told Peyton he'd marry her someday, or if he told her he'd never get married. Either of those things would explain her current disdain for the human race in general and her insistence that honesty doesn't exist.

"What happened to me being the girl for you?" she asks bluntly as he's taking a sip of his beer.

Oh. _That's_ what she's talking about.

"Peyton..."

"You said it, Lucas. You said I was the girl for you and you knew it."

"I know, but..."

"But what? You didn't know it? Did you even mean it?" she asks. She's speaking a little loudly, but the place is relatively empty, and the music is loud, and the bartender is keeping his distance, for which Lucas is thankful.

"We should get out of here," he says, reaching for his wallet. "We should talk somewhere else."

She lets out a frustrated sigh and crosses her arms and all but taps her foot as Lucas drops his cash on the bar. He touches her elbow to lead her out of the room, but she's in fine form, and she pulls away from him and shoots him a glare and starts walking a couple paces in front of him. He's always hated it when she acts like this, and it hasn't happened in ages. They'd usually resolve those silly arguments quickly.

He knows damn well this conversation is going to be a long one. And it's not silly at all.

She doesn't say anything the entire walk to her little shop. It's close, and it's neutral, and she doesn't want to be at either of their houses. She pulls out the key and turns it in the lock, and Lucas is right behind her when she turns around.

"Did you mean it?" she asks as soon as he's got the door closed.

The only light coming in the room is from the street lamps pouring through the uncovered windows, and all he can think is that she's beautiful.

And so he answers, "yes," and he means it.

"So...So what changed?"

"Peyton, we...we never had the right timing. You were there, and I was here, and...we were never in the same place at the same time," he explains.

"So?"

"So what?" he asks in confusion.

"So why didn't you tell me you wanted to try to make it work?"

"Because I knew you'd say it'd be too hard!" he claims. "Peyton, you're not exactly great at being honest about your feelings."

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" she asks, rearing back from him a little. She sets her stance. Her arms are crossed again, and she rests her weight on one hip, and he almost smiles.

She looks just like the bitchy cheerleader he used to love.

Know. The bitchy cheerleader he used to _know_, he corrects himself.

Except that dammit he _did_ love her. If he's talking about honesty, he has to admit that maybe he still does, at least a little bit. On some level or another.

Or, as he's been thinking since he saw her again for the first time, on all levels. Whatever.

"You don't know how," he tells her.

"I told you I loved you!"

"Yeah. _Months_ after I told you."

"What does that have to do with anything?" As soon as she's said the words, she regrets them. It has everything to do with everything.

"Time and place," he says with a shrug. "We never got it together. And then you were with...him, and..."

"And now you're with her," she says softly, looking to the floor.

And it's not that he doesn't like Miranda. And he cares about her. He enjoys her company. She's sweet and beautiful and she makes him laugh and there's no drama.

He almost misses the drama. The drama came with Peyton. The uncertainty and the heart wrenching words that were all left unspoken because neither of them had the nerve to say what exactly it was they were feeling.

He definitely misses Peyton. She's standing not more than five feet from him, and he definitely misses her. His Peyton. The girl he fell in love with, and the girl he knows she still is somewhere beneath all this hurt and all this heartache.

He wants _that_ girl back.

"You'll always be my one that got away," he tells her, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

She doesn't know why he's saying it. She loves that he's saying it.

"I haven't gone anywhere," she says quietly.

He doesn't know what that really means. But she is home, and she is still feeling...something...for him, and she is still gorgeous. She still looks at him with those eyes in a way he's 100 per cent certain she's never looked at anyone else before, and it's really all he can do not to just grab her and kiss her and tell her that he's hers; that he's always been hers.

"What are you saying?" he asks, just because he needs her confirmation.

"I...I honestly don't even know," she admits. She laughs, and he smiles, because it all is a little crazy. He shouldn't care, but he definitely does and she can tell. "What do you want me to be saying?"

He runs his hand over his face and looks away from her, and she wants to kiss his smile, because he obviously doesn't hate her for saying all she's just said.

"I mean...you and I...we're never really over," he says as though he's just realizing it.

"I know," she whispers. She takes a deep breath and stuffs her hands in her pockets. "But why are _you_ saying this? I mean...I'm an emotional disaster, so my part's pretty clear."

He laughs a little and shakes his head. "You're not a disaster."

"No matter how much you try to flatter me, I'll still need an answer," she says, and they smirk at each other across the darkened space.

"Because...you're Peyton, and this...us...it's big," he says. He wonders if she'll remember those words from his first time and their first time. _That time_.

"Deja vu," she says.

"I guess I lost sight of that until you came back."

"Yeah," she whispers.

And he wants to kiss her. He loves that she remembers such a monumental moment in his life. And that's when he realizes that it was a monumental moment in her life too. He doesn't know how he never understood that before.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks. She smiles at him and he winks, and it just about stops her heart. She wonders when he's going to run out of throwback phrases.

"It's not really up to me, is it?" she asks. "You're the one...You have a..."

"I know," he says, nodding almost shamefully and avoiding her eyes. "But I lo..."

"Can you not?" She shakes her head and holds up her hands. "Don't say it. Not until...Just not yet."

"If you know it's true, then why can't I say it?" he asks with a smirk.

"Because."

He wants to argue with her, and she can tell. He wants to kiss her, and she can tell that, too. But she just locks eyes with him, and what she sees there is almost better than a kiss. Well, no it's not, but she can pretend it is so it'll distract her from wanting him to touch her in very inappropriate ways.

"Let me walk you home." He's smiling at her in _that way_, and they both know she won't say no.

She walks towards him and he pulls the door open, and it's all he can do not to just touch her. Anywhere. He settles for tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as he stands next to her and she locks the door behind them. She turns her head to the side a bit against his hand, and it all looks so innocent as she catches sight of their reflections in the glass, but it's so much more than that.

"Can I at least say that you're beautiful?" he asks softly, and she turns to him and smiles.

"You never did have trouble with that one."

"Neither did you," he says, knowing that she could either find it adorable or cheesy. The way she trails her hand town his arm, past his elbow, down to his wrist until her fingertips are brushing his before she lets go, he thinks she found it adorable.

And no one ever made her feel like this. A simple sentiment, simple words, and he can make her feel so amazing that she'd just listen to him talk forever if she could.

She's practically sober now, and she can tell he is. They walk in mostly silence, because neither of them is too sure what they can say now after all they've said. To use more words or other words would take away from everything else, and she won't do that. She wants to hang onto things like he knew she was the one, and being his one that got away, and an almost I love you.

"Drink lots of water, okay?" he tells her as she unlocks the door to her house. She looks at him and she's almost pouting. "What?"

"This sucks."

"What does?" he asks with a laugh.

"I want you to stay," she admits quietly. She looks to her hands, toying with her keys, and so she misses the smile her little statement puts on his face.

"I want to. I can't though."

"I know," she whispers. "Hey Luke?"

"Yeah?" he almost laughs, because she really doesn't need to call his attention to her.

"Tell me this'll work."

He smirks and takes one small step closer to her, and he says, "you have my word."

She closes her eyes, and he kisses her forehead and says goodnight, and she watches him walk down the steps and towards the sidewalk, and he doesn't turn around to look at her. He knows that if he does that, he'll be running back up the steps towards her, and he can't do that. He won't do that to the other girl, and he won't demean his relationship with Peyton by not respecting her enough to wait until he's 'single' to kiss her like he wants to kiss her.

He lays in his bed that night but he can't sleep. All he can think about is a girl across town and he swears he's 17 again. He's in love with her and she wants him too, and there's tension and all sorts of other amazing things that he feels around her.

This time, when he gets it, he's not going to let it go, and he's not going to let her run from it, either.

----

It's four days before she sees him again, and she's not scared like maybe she should be.

He gave her his word.

She's sitting at the picnic table at the River Court like she often does - Nathan jokes that it's her 'office' - with papers scattered in front of her and a can of Diet Coke with a blue straw sitting to her left. She's listening to her iPod, and she sees him walking towards her with one hand his pocket.

She smiles at him but doesn't say anything, and he smiles at her, but doesn't say anything, and as soon as he's sitting next to her, he kisses her without warning. He buries his hand in her hair and she moans when his tongue sweeps into her mouth, and he feels her hand land on his thigh. He pulls away only when he needs air, and he's kind of glad there isn't anyone else around, since that was borderline obscene. He doesn't think he would have cared either way.

"I love you," he says softly.

"I love you." Her eyes are still closed, and her words are almost a sigh, like it's a relief to say them.

"I'm staying with you tonight," he insists. He sees the shiver run down her spine. God, he loves that.

"A lot of nights," she tells him, and he smiles and nods his head. "It's still here."

He looks to the top of the table, where she's tracing her fingers over eight silver letters she wrote there what seems like ages ago.

"I know." He smirks at her, but he's blushing.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asks, raising one brow.

"I made sure it was always there," he says timidly.

He pulls a silver Sharpie out of the pocket of his jeans, and she closes her eyes and smiles at him before she leans forward to kiss him.

"You are something else," she whispers.

"I'm yours," he promises

She loves that he'd trace over those words so they wouldn't fade. He loves that she works there to be near that silver sentiment.

"No more heartbreak?"

"None," he insists.

"You wanna go fool around?" she asks, just for old times' sake. Okay, and also because she really, really wants to.

He's got her hand in his and he's gathering her papers as she laughs, and once he's got all her things in her bag, he takes her in his arms and kisses her again.

Suddenly it doesn't matter at all that they've wasted a lot of time being stupid and scared. The other relationships didn't hold a candle to this one that, on the outside, looks only about five minutes old but has been years in the making. The distance never really changed them (it was all the other stuff that did) and they won't let it change them now. Pulling back and pushing each other away is all a distant memory.

He just loves her and she just loves him. It's all pretty simple after that.

Their story doesn't seem so tragic anymore.

**_-Fin-_**


End file.
